


Happenstance

by Fangirling_FTW



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Community: deancasbigbang, DCBB 2018, DeanCas AU - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Dean, mentioned mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 70,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirling_FTW/pseuds/Fangirling_FTW
Summary: Castiel had retreated to a life of solitude- just him and his cousin on a farm, away from the stares and smells of a society that either pitied or shunned him.A fault in a car engine and it’s charismatic driver, Dean, rip Castiel from that quiet life and force him to open his eyes to a much larger world- and the fight to change it.





	1. It's an Okay Life

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my DCBB!!!
> 
> I was reminded why I DONT sign up for challenges when I started this, but in the end I'm really glad I did. This has been an awesome struggle and the kind of stress that makes me proud of the struggle.
> 
> First and foremost I want to thank my artist for making some AMAZING art and being so supportive in helping me write this story. I LOVE YOU @WingsandImpalas <33 Second I want to shout out @Tennyo for being awesome and helping me beta this thing when the panic set in YOU'RE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU ALSO!!
> 
> Anyway I hope you all enjoy my first attempt at an ABO and let me know with ALL the comments!! <333

 

> [HAPPENSTANCE TITLE ART](//imgur.com/GfxeQZJ)

 

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Gabriel asks for the 300th time this morning.  Castiel sighs into his coffee, burying his nose in the steam to help mask the scent of his cousin’s concern.  He loves his cousin, and he enjoys living with him, but sometimes the beta could very easily test his patience.

“Gabriel, I am a full grown adult.” Cas ignores Gabe's snort of laughter, “and I've been on this farm with you for years now.  I can take care of it while you're gone.” He raises an eyebrow at Gabe over his coffee and Gabe sighs, running a hand through his long, golden brown hair.

“Fine, you're right, don't stink up the place with your annoyed alpha smell.”  

Cas watches as Gabriel grabs his bags, taking a deep breath to calm himself.  It wasn't good to let his irritation show to the point where his cousin’s weaker sense of smell could catch it. Just one of the many issues Cas faces in his life, keeping himself and his condition under control.

“You could stop beating around the bush, then you wouldn't be here to smell me,” Cas shoots back.  He puts some fake, smug superiority in his voice, covering his slip in control the way he always does.

“You could use some beating around the bush if you know what I mean,” Gabriel mumbles petulantly.  Cas rolls his eyes, giving his cousin his patented heavy bitch face. Gabe’s head falls back with a frustrated groan.  “It's a joke, Cassie. You know, in the time you've lived here, I've seen more omegas than the number of times I've seen you smile.”  

“Gabe, you've never seen an omega.”  Cas rolls his eyes tiredly, taking another long sip of coffee.

“Okay, you got me.”  Cas can hear Gabe’s playful satisfaction.  “But you've got to admit, you're going to miss having me around after your third day of shoveling horse poo.”  Gabe smiles fondly at Cas, who shakes his head, a small half smile showing up in spite of himself. Gabe snaps his fingers and points at Cas, his scent mildly triumphant.  “There it is!”

“Shut up, Gabe.”

“Alright, you big strong alpha you, I leave my little slice of paradise in your capable hands.”  Gabe ruffles Cas’ hair and finally walks out the door. Cas runs his hand through his flyaway dark hair, though he has to admit it’s pretty pointless to try and fix it.  He stands to see Gabriel off, watching as his cousin’s old pick-up pulls out of sight down the quiet country road. Gabe is heading to Plant City for some sort of livestock and equipment show, leaving Cas to tend the farm on his own for four days.   

Cas pauses in the doorway, taking a deep breath of the morning air, still heavy with last night's humidity.  Scents make their way into his nose: the animals, the small garden, the orange trees across the street. It smells like home, fresh and peaceful, and he turns to head back into the house with a smile on his face.  Gabe's trip means some quality alone time for Cas. Alone, he doesn't have to worry about controlling his scent, or scenting other people. It's down to him, the animals, and a little peace and quiet.

Cas walks into the office he set up in his cousin’s spare bedroom, nothing more than a desk and a couple filing cabinets.  The only personal items were a gifted pencil holder and a picture of his younger self with his dad. It's one of the only things Cas has left of him after his mother purged him from their lives.  As soon as he logs onto the company server his phone starts playing the “Imperial March” from Star Wars. He feels a small pull at his cheeks as they soften into a smile.

“I see you changed your ringtone when you came to visit the other day,” he huffs in fake annoyance.

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Charlie giggles.  Charlie is an adorable, red-headed beta, and Cas' best friend.  Her scent is so calm and kind everyone immediately takes a liking to her, even if they can’t smell her quite like Cas does.  She wears her nerd status with pride and is a champion for any underdog cause she finds. “Just thought I'd check on you, you know, because you totally need babysitting, not because I’m bored out of my mind.”  

“Gabe took a little longer getting out the door than he should have.”  Cas starts the task of digging through his emails, sorting out the ones to ignore from the important ones.

“Oh, that's right, his big trip.  Hey, do you think he'd have a fit if I borrowed his barn for a get-together?”  Charlie’s feigned casual tone makes Cas huff a small laugh.

“We’re boarding two horses right now, so no Moondor parties for a while.”

“Hey, there's horses in Moondor!  We’ll just work them into the game!”  

“Charlie, you and your LARPing friends-”

“Interactive literaturists,” she corrects.

“- are not going to bother the horses while Gabe isn't here.”

“Dammit,” she whines.  “Guess I'll have to find somewhere else.”

“Stop pouting, I can hear it through the phone.”  

“Oh, fine.  Hey, can I show you something?  I finished a client’s order last night all by my lonesome and a week early.  Want to make sure I didn’t miss anything.” Cas smiles. Even though it sounds like Charlie is bragging, he knows her well enough to know she's simply stating a fact.  Charlie is an artist with computers, and she earned her right to brag. “It’s the video for the Museum of History, and strangely enough there’s no one in the office yet to show it to.  I mean, when did I become the responsible one?”

“What do you mean, there’s no one there?” Cas asks, finishing with his emails and preparing to work on his spreadsheets.

“I forget, you don't watch the news.  Security Forces are everywhere, roadblocks and checkpoints... some weird fugitive situation.”

“Wow, traffic in the city must be fucking hideous,” Cas chuckles.

“Leave it to you to laugh at people’s pain.”

“Just send me the video,” Castiel sighs.  He can hear her tapping away at her keyboard, and a new email pops up.  He opens the video, smirking at the cheesy logo and introduction. It’s a child’s drawing of the country, with lines in different colors all spreading from Central, and little pudgy cartoon people holding hands and smiling at the center.

“Don’t laugh,” she pouts.  "You know this is for kids!"

“I wasn’t!”

“Yeah, well, I know you okay.”  A woman smiles at the camera, explaining in her exaggerated perky voice a piece of the country’s history.  The overlaid images and videos are Charlie’s selection, and if Cas is honest that's the video's only saving grace.

 **_The current Chancellor is from the Campbell family, who has governed us for almost two centuries._ ** An image of the Chancellor comes up, and Cas wonders briefly if the man is ever not brooding.   _T_ **_hey've led us to great progress in technology, healthcare improvements, and prosperity.  Chancellor Samuel Campbell created our SpeedRail system, making travel easier for people in all five regions of the country._ **

Films of the trains zipping by bright landscapes take up the screen, using the same stock footage they’ve used since the last expansion was built.   **_In fact, people here in Southeast can make it all the way to Northwest in six hours by train!  The SpeedRail celebrates 20 years this year, a great achievement for such a wonderful service._ **

The video ends with another saccharine grin from the woman and Cas groans as he shuts it off.

“Was it really that bad?”

“No, it was good for what it’s for,” Cas assures her.  “But the actress they picked…

“I know,” she laughs.  “What do you expect from a government commission?”

“They could have at least picked an actor with more… personality.”

“I’ll let you go, grumpy pants,” Charlie laughs.  “We still on for Thursday?” Charlie tries to get him out of the house at least once a week- this Thursday they're going bowling of all things.  Cas is already dreading the smell of the place.

“Yeah, we’re still on,” Cas replies with a small, close-lipped smile.  Okay, a grimace, he‘s grimacing, but he'd bear the outing for Charlie’s sake.

“Good, I'll come to get you as soon as I'm outta here.  Bye, my love!”

“Later, Charlie.”

Out of curiosity, Cas puts off work for a few more minutes to Google the news Charlie was talking about.  According to the news reports, the Security Force was transporting a political prisoner, and he'd given them the slip.  All they'd released was a physical description and a vague sketch. The guy looks like he could be anyone, and Cas laughs at the government's expense.  Without a photo they were gonna have their hands full for weeks. Cas closes out the news tab on his browser, setting his focus to his work. It isn't going to affect him anyway.

 

After work and his post sitting-at-a-desk stretches, Cas changes into his favorite beat-up jeans and an old denim long-sleeve shirt.  Sliding into his worn work boots, he steps outside into the warm afternoon sunlight. He makes his way to the barn- hay, leather, and horse weaving together into a comforting mixture.  Most people complained about the smell, but since Cas could smell it from the house, he'd gotten used to it a while ago. Natural scents, animals and plants, he was able to go nose blind to, and now they simply smell like home.  Grabbing his work gloves out of the tack room Cas moves into the barn proper, getting to work filling the horses' food and water. Satisfied, he locks the stall doors behind him, moving through the stall itself to open the door that leads outside.  He pulls off his work glove, putting his fingers to his lips and whistling loud. It only takes a moment before the two horses trot up, walking into their respective stalls without a struggle. Cas shuts the gate for Anna’s pen first, a broad grin on his face when she nuzzles at his neck.

“Cut it out, you flirt,” he laughs, rubbing her neck, her auburn coloring shining in the orange light of the sunset.  Once she’s secure, he moves to secure the second stall. “Oh, so we’re pouting today?” Cas laughs. The mare, Amelia, has her back to Cas, and she turns her face towards him for a moment before turning back haughtily.  “Be that way,” he hums, walking to the fence and climbing over. Finished with the horses, Cas makes his way towards the front of the house where the chicken coop is waiting. He checks the fencing, their feed, and gathers up the stragglers that fell asleep out in the grass instead of the coop.   Cas checks on the rooster in his separate pen, making sure he's secure for the night, too.

It’s usually dirty, gross, and generally hard labor, but the routine is comforting in its monotony.  The physical work keeps him in shape, and the focused repetition keeps his mind blissfully empty. Cas realizes that others may see his life as boring; Charlie’s hinted at it a few times, but Cas doesn't mind being boring.  He’ll take boring over bombardment with scents and judgment everywhere he turns.

Cas climbs the steps out into the early evening, pausing when a few meows sound from the two tiny dog houses sitting on the porch.  A black cat and an orange cat climb out of the houses, tails in the air, demanding Cas’ attention. Gabe had fed them regularly enough they stayed on as mousers, and he'd managed to catch them and get them each neutered last year.

“Give me a minute, I'll get your dinner.”  They meow again in protest when Cas opens the door, nudging them gently with his foot to keep them outside.  Grabbing the cat food, he fills two bowls and flips on the porch light before going back outside. He sets the bowls down and chuckles as the cats immediately go to work devouring the food.  “Greedy bastards,” Cas huffs, walking across the front porch to sit on the bench swing.

He breathes deep, leaning back and enjoying the almost cool early evening breeze.  Gabe wasn't lying when he'd called this his little slice of paradise. It’s blissfully quiet and calm, the sounds and lights of civilization far away.  There isn't much light pollution either, the street lamps and porch lights from the neighbors small dots along the road. As the stars start to come out, bright and beautiful in the remote country sky, Cas feels at peace.  Bagheera, the black cat, stalks over and rubs on Cas’ leg, purring when Cas reaches down to scratch his ears and chin.

“At least I know you enjoy my company, even if it is for food,” Cas sighs to the cat.  He stands, stretching his arms and legs out before heading back into the quiet house. Cas has a quick dinner before cycles through his nighttime routine, double checking that the lights are off, then checks door locks and the windows.  Satisfied, he climbs the stairs to his bedroom where his en suite bathroom and a shower are calling to him. He washes off the day, deciding to skip giving himself a shave.

Sleep comes easily to Cas tonight because while his life isn't perfect, for the most part, he’s content.

 

Cas turns his alarm off at 5:30 the next morning, rubbing the sleep out if his eyes as he stretches.  He dresses in his work clothes from the day before and heads downstairs for breakfast and coffee. The rooster starts to call out the morning right as Cas finishes eating a quick bowl of oatmeal.  The morning chores are much the same as the evening chores, with the addition of mucking out the horses’ stalls and a quick trip through the garden to check on the vegetables and do some watering. Another shower, another cup of coffee, and Cas is back in his office, ready to start another day of work.

Charlie calls to update Cas on the weird fugitive situation but she doesn't talk long.  Their supervisor Dick Roman made it into work on time. Cas and Dick have a not so great past, and as a result, Dick keeps a close eye on Charlie for no other reason than her being Cas’ friend.  A series of amusing puns on Dick’s name texted to him throughout the day keep him smiling at least.

All in all, it’s an identical day to most every other day in Cas’ life for the past few years.  The only difference is Gabe isn’t around to pester him, so if anything it’s on its way to being more peaceful.

Cas ends his night the same way he always does- lounging on the porch swing with the cats.  He's stroking Bagheera fondly where he sits on the swing next to him purring. Sher Khan, the orange cat, lays sprawled out on the porch in front of Cas, the occasional twitch of his tail knocking against Cas’ foot.

The crunching of gravel and the stuttering grumble of an engine that sounds like it needs serious help break the usually peaceful silence.  Bagheera flinches and bolts for the safety of his dog house, Sher Khan opting for the bushes that line the porch. Headlights come into view a short while later, and the car in question rolls to a stop right in front of Gabe’s house.  The headlights turn off as the engine does, and a string of curses in a deep male voice follows. In the dim light of the lone street lamp above the driveway, Cas can barely make out the edge of an older, dark colored car. The smell of exhaust and overheated metal wafts over to meet Cas’ nose.

A click and more mumbled curses, followed by the creak of a door that needs some oil, and the sound of the hood opening.  It’s quiet for a moment, then Cas jumps when the hood closes with a definitive ‘shit’ from the man.

“Hey, can I get some help?”  It takes Cas an embarrassingly long time to realize the deep voice is talking to him.

“Uh, I guess.”  Cas pushes himself to stand, cautious as he makes his way down the steps.  The man moves into view of the light above the driveway and Cas finally gets a good look at him.  He's a bit taller than Cas with light brown hair and broad shoulders. The cut of his jaw adds to his bright eyes and the half smile on his face, making him the very definition of ‘eye candy’.  

But even noticing the gorgeous bend in this man’s bow legs is a complete waste of time.  Cas doesn’t date, much less sleep with anyone. Anyway, for all he knows this is some serial killer using a ruse to get close enough to murder him.  

“So… that a yes?” the guy asks again.

“Uh, yeah, yes,” Cas stammers nervously, hoping his scent isn't giving away exactly how nervous.

“Awesome, I just need to charge my phone for a minute so I can call a friend of mine."  The guy is gesturing back at the car as he steps closer and Cas takes a deep, calming breath through his nose.

The world comes to a screeching halt.

He takes another breath, to make sure he isn't imagining things.  All he can smell is a slight overtone of leather and motor oil, both of which seem to have rubbed off from the car.   _This guy has no scent._  If Cas didn't see him standing there, he'd swear he wasn't there at all.

 _Never_ , not since he'd presented, had Cas met anyone he couldn't scent.  Everyone had a smell. Even doctors on scent blockers because of their work could be scented by Cas from across the room.  He’s getting nothing off this guy, and he doesn't know whether he should be relieved or scared. The man seems normal enough by looks alone, his face open and honest, but-

“You okay?” the man asks, dragging Cas back down to earth with a cautious look.  Cas blinks a few times, clearing his head and focusing in on the stranger.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm just… yeah.”  

“You sure?  You smell a little freaked out.”  The man takes a step back, his right hand reaching into his pocket to pull out a phone with a charging cable hanging from it.  “I can wait by the car if you just take my phone…”

“No, it's fine,” Cas blurts, “you, uh, can come up to the porch.”  Cas turns for the house to hide his burning cheeks, hoping the whole serial killer thing isn’t true.  Now that he’s paying attention his own scent is a little pungent, and he forces himself to calm down. By the time they reach the porch Cas has managed to quell his panic.  Staying near the porch swing, Cas points at the power outlet on the wall by the front door. “You can use that one."

“Great, thank you for this.”  The man smiles, the wrinkles around his eyes both reassuring and a distraction.  As he kneels to plug his phone in, Cas gets a great view of the man’s ass in his too-tight jeans, the shirt pulled tight against the muscles in his back.  This is beyond unfair, Cas complains to himself. It’s bad enough he’s a scent anomaly, he also has to be the most attractive man Cas has ever met. Noone on the short list of betas Cas had been with even came close to hitting his buttons like this man does.  When the guy stands and turns back to face Cas, the flash in his green eyes hints that he knows exactly where Cas was looking. Cas flushes, clamping down on the scent of his embarrassment and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“My name is Dean,” the man says, offering his hand to shake.  Cas barely grips his hand before pulling his own back from the warmth of Dean’s.

“Castiel.”

“Castiel,” Dean repeats in a thoughtful tone, looking over Cas with an appraising eye.

“It suits you,” he decides, smiling at Cas again.

“You can call me Cas, everyone does,” he mumbles, taking a step back and dropping onto the porch swing.

“Okay, then, Cas.”  His smile fades in favor of a look of concern.  “You sure you're okay? I'm sorry to be a bother-”

“I'm fine,” Cas insists, a little sharpness in his voice he wasn't expecting.  “I just… don't get many visitors. My ‘people skills’ are rusty.” He realizes he actually, physically, used air quotes, and shoves his hands back in his pockets, blushing.   _Smooth as crunchy peanut butter._

 

“Well I'll be out of your hair shortly,” Dean reassures him.  Cas nods, feeling super awkward and inadequate next to this gorgeous man.  He can't even tell if he's an alpha or a beta, with no scent to go by. Not that it should matter, Cas reasons with himself.  It's not like anything is going to happen in the five minutes it takes to charge his phone.

 _Or you know, ever._  

But oh, boy, did he have fantasy material to play with now.  

Bagheera pokes his head out of his cat house, and Dean kneels down to greet him.  

"Hey little dude," Dean hums holding his hand out and wiggling his fingers until the black cat comes over to sniff.   Bagheera decides there's nothing to worry about, rubbing his nose and cheeks against Dean’s fingers. Cas’ eyes are drawn to the dusting of freckles across Dean's nose, watching the line of his jaw as he smiles at the cat.  Dean has an easy grace to his movements, a confidence and comfort that Cas has never been able to find in himself. When Bagheera walks away, Dean looks up and meets Cas' eyes. The green is sparkling with humor at catching Cas staring again.

“Do you want anything?  Tea, water?” he offers, standing up in a rush and moving to the door.

“No, I'm good, thank you.”  Dean smirks, a small, coy thing.  “You know,” he stands up and steps closer to Cas, “you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about."  Dean winks. "You're quite the looker yourself, Cas.” The man’s voice dips, as his gaze takes an appreciative glance down Cas' body.  Cas feels his face burn and grabs the doorknob in a rush.

"I'm gonna- I'll be right back."  Cas is still wearing his work clothes, stained and smelling like horses.  Dean was probably poking fun, taking advantage of Cas’ obvious embarrassment.  He pours himself a mug of water, popping a tea bag inside and shoving it in the microwave with surprising force.  As the tea heats, he forces himself to breathe deep and slow, regaining his composure while he can. The microwave pings and Cas grabs the mug; taking in the calming smell of his mint tea, he braces himself and walks back outside.  Dean is on his phone, bent over in an awkward position since it's still plugged in. Cas makes himself look away from the slip of skin exposed by the tail of Dean's shirt riding up. He sips at his tea, the scalding liquid a welcome distraction.

“Don't you pull that shit, not you, you know better than that… I can fucking take care of myself- no, you know what, fuck you.”  He hangs up with force, turning off the phone and dropping it on the floor. He turns and sees Cas, clearing his throat as he shifts on his feet.  “My, uh, backup plan isn't going to come through,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mind if I leave the car parked out front? I’ll sleep in the backseat and fix her up in the morning.”

“You're going to sleep in your car?” Cas asks with a frown.  “Like, the whole night?”

“Well, it wouldn't be the first time.”  Dean shrugs like it's okay to stuff himself in the backseat of a car for eight hours.

“That can't be comfortable.”

“`Course not," Dean gives him an amused look, "but it's nothing some stretching in the morning won't fix.  I'll be fine.” Dean is already turning to walk down the porch steps.

“There’s a spare room,” Cas blurts, his heart rate increasing tenfold the moment the words leave him.  Dean pauses and looks back, surprised. _What the fuck?!  What am I doing?!?_  “Here, in the house, I mean.”

“No, I couldn't ask that.” Dean shakes his head, waving the offer away.  

“Because sleeping in your car is a better option,” Cas counters.  He has no idea why he's inviting a stranger to spend the night, but the idea of Dean sleeping in his car is beyond absurd.

“You could be inviting a serial killer into your house,” Dean points out with a smirk like he'd read Cas’ mind earlier.  

“My bedroom door locks and I know how to use a shotgun,” Cas deadpans, hoping his face will match up to his bluster.  While that is a true statement, it’s not like Cas wants to use the gun. Dean stares in open-mouthed shock for a moment before he grins.

“Okay then,” he laughs, the sound tingling along Cas’ nerves.  “Spare bedroom it is. Let me get my bag.” Cas feels his mouth twitch in a smile as Dean jogs down the driveway, grabbing a bag from his trunk and turning back.  He bounds back up the stairs, bending to grab his phone and looking at Cas with an expectant smile. Cas lets Dean into the house, shutting and locking the door behind the two of them, hoping it doesn't seem too ominous.  

“Nice place, comfortable,” Dean observes as they walk into the kitchen.  

“It's my cousin’s home.  I've only lived here for a few years now.”  Cas downs the last of his tea before setting his mug in the sink.  “Let me make sure the bed is made." He leads Dean into the side hallway, pulling some pillows and blankets out of the linen closet.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Dean asks, and Cas points further down the hall.

“Last door on the right, the bedroom will be across the hall,” he explains.  

Dean smiles at him, soft and genuine. “Thanks, Cas.”  He squeezes past to walk down the hallway, brushing his arm on his way by, Cas' scent spiking with slight nerves.  Cas manages not to shiver at the touch, reminded again of the lack of scent coming off of Dean. The bathroom door closes, shaking him back into motion and Cas takes the linens to the bedroom.

He goes to work making the bed, focusing on the task to help even out his scent again.  He hasn't been this all over the place in a long time, not since he'd started taking his current suppressors.  Was Dean on his own suppressors? If his meds are interacting with Dean’s it might explain why Cas can't level out his scent, or scent Dean at all.  Cas can’t think of anyone else on a prescription strong enough for that kind of side effect; it's not like he has experience with this.

Cas fluffs out the pillows and turns the sheets down, nodding in satisfaction as he examines the bed.  He freezes in stunned shock when he realizes what he's done. The blankets are fluffed and tucked into a sort of supportive ridge around the pillows, a little funnel that will cradle the person sleeping there.

Problems with his meds don't explain why he'd made this random stranger a weird semblance of _a nest_.

“Fuck me,” Cas groans.  

“What was that?” Dean's voice comes from the doorway, making Cas jump and turn to face him.  Dean is still wearing the t-shirt that smells like the car, but he's swapped his jeans for cotton pajamas.  He drops his small duffel bag on the floor by the door, glancing around the room.

“Nothing,” Cas insists, moving towards the door and ignoring the small blush on his own cheeks.

“Looks cozy,” Dean says as he walks over to the bed.  “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas ignores the weird happy feeling he gets from the praise.“I get up at 5:30 for breakfast before I take care of the animals.  If you wake up after me there are fresh eggs in the fridge, help yourself.” He doesn't wait for Dean to respond before fleeing the room.

Sleep.  All he needs is some sleep, and his weird behavior will fix itself.  The proverbial turn it off and on again that works with all machinery.  Cas shuts and locks the door to his bedroom, shucking his work clothes for pajamas.  He brushes his teeth and slips into bed, trying to relax enough to fall asleep. It isn't working, his mind on super alert, hyper-aware of Dean down below him.  After an hour of listening to total silence, Cas finally drifts off to sleep.


	2. Scrambled Eggs

Cas hits his alarm as it starts going off, feeling off center as he swings his legs over the side of the bed.  He hadn't slept well last night, tossing and turning, even waking up a few times before drifting off again. He doesn't bother getting dressed, heading straight for the coffee machine in his pajamas.

As he turns the corner into the kitchen, he stumbles to a dumbfounded halt.

Oh, right.  He has a house guest.

Dean's wearing nothing but his jeans dangling precariously from his hips as he searches for a pan.  He's got eggs and veggies already sitting out on the counter, along with some cheese and a mixing bowl.  When he finds the pan he wants, he turns to glance over his shoulder at Cas and smiles.

“Good morning!  Figured the least I could do to repay the night stay would be to make you some breakfast.”  It's like he's not even aware he's standing half-naked in a stranger’s kitchen.

“Uh, thanks,” Cas mumbles, moving to the coffee pot and getting the coffee brewing.  Dean moves through the kitchen with surprising ease, no hint of awkwardness. The aroma of his cooking sets Cas’ mouth-watering as he waits for the coffee to drip.

“I've got a toolbox in my trunk, so I can get myself on the road by this afternoon.”  Dean's tossing some spices in the pan of sauteed veggies, grabbing the bowl of scrambled eggs.  “Don’t want to be in your hair any longer than I need to.”

“There's no hurry, you're not in the way where you're parked.”  Cas winces, he might as well come out and say I want to stare at you a little longer.  Cas grabs two coffee cups, fixing his how he likes before addressing Dean. “Milk or sugar?”

“Black, thanks.”  Cas knows he's staring as he sips his coffee but he can't help it.  The muscles in Dean’s back flex and stretch in all sorts of distracting ways as he scrambles eggs like an expert.  Cas flushes, dropping his gaze from Dean’s back down to the now empty coffee mug in his hands before he gets caught.  

“Can I ask you something kinda personal?”  Dean asks as he searches out some plates. His voice is cautious and gentle, and Cas figures he can't embarrass himself any worse than he did last night.

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“You're unmated?”  Dean says it quick and offhand as he's adding cheese to the mix in the pan.  Cas pours out a second cup of coffee, giving himself a minute to swallow his surprise and decide on his answer.

“Never something I've pursued,” he answers, figuring there's nothing wrong with being honest.  “Why do you want to know if I'm mated?” Cas shouldn't ask, it's not his business anyway… but he has and now he waits for Dean's answer.  Dean takes the food off the heat and serves it, Cas grabbing forks as they both sit at the table.

“I didn't want to bother you if you were going through a separation.  Withdrawal is still a thing sometimes.” For most folks, broken mating bonds don't cause withdrawal or sickness.  Cas isn't most people, and he doubts he'd survive; he wasn't that blissfully nose blind. Dean continues when Cas doesn't say anything.  “I know you said you live here with your cousin, but you didn't sound pleased by it. In fact, you're kind of… standoffish?”

Cas is standoffish?  He goes to bite out a retort, then stops himself when he realizes Dean is right.  It's what comes naturally for Cas, shutting down around strangers. Dean is watching him over the rim of his coffee mug, green eyes patient.

“I enjoy living out here,” Cas explains, “it’s my cousin who leaves a little to be desired.”  Dean huffs a small laugh, probably assuming Cas was joking, and Cas feels the beginning of a smile.

“Family is family, though.  Can't help being related to them, just have to make due with what you've got.”  Something in Dean’s voice as he says that screams family drama issues, but Cas lets it go in favor of eating.  He hums, thrilled at the burst of flavor and shoving another bite in right after.

“Dean, these are amazing,” he manages through a mouthful.

“Nice manners, Cas,"  Dean smiles and winks.  "And thanks.” Dean takes a bite himself, swallowing before he continues talking.  “I’ve had some free time, between jobs, spent a lot of it in the kitchen.”

“Well, it shows."  Dean sits up a little straighter, looking pleased with the compliment.  Cas tries not to but he finds himself watching Dean again as they eat in silence.  The muscles in his jaw, the flex of his bare arms and chest, his calloused hand as it grabs his coffee.  Even the spread of freckles over his cheeks is a distraction Cas wasn't expecting. Dean smiles at him, a knowing look in his eye.

“You sure the praise of the food has nothing to do with the half naked cook?” Dean hums, blatant in his observation.  Cas feels his cheeks burn, shoving the last of his food in his mouth to avoid talking. Dean laughs, grinning at him. “Sorry, Cas, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.  You're, uh, cute when you blush.” Cas looks up sharply, ready to make an indignant comment about being ‘cute’. He pauses when he sees the humor in Dean’s eyes, feeling the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

So instead, Cas laughs, a real laugh, that bubbles up from out of nowhere.  It starts small, but when Dean joins in it devolves into a fit of the giggles.  

“There you are,” Dean says with a warm smile.  Cas’ eyes drop to Dean’s lips, soft and pink, on the feminine edge of pouty, then quickly drops his gaze to the table.

“I didn't realize how much I needed that."  Cas surprises himself with the admission but doesn't back down from it.  “It's been awhile since I've had a good laugh. Or a reason to.” Dean finishes off his coffee, stands and starts clearing the table.

“Well, I’m glad something good came from my car crapping out.”  Dean leans over Cas to grab his empty plate, and Cas feels the softest brush of his bare chest against Cas' shoulder.

That's when Cas catches Dean's scent for the first time.

It's so faint it's hard to find, he has to flare his nostrils wide and breathe deep, but it's there.  
  
Dean smells sweet, but not cloying and overpowering so like most sweet scents are to Cas.  Instead, it's refreshing, like a clearing away of all the other olfactory crap Cas can never shake.

It's also a relief to scent him, which is strange considering he'd spent most of his life hating his strong nose.  Cas realizes Dean's a beta, none of the musky alpha tinges to his scent. And then Cas has to remind himself yet again that Dean's sub gender doesn't matter, it's not like anything is going to happen…

“Hey?  You hear me?”  Dean's deep voice breaks into Cas’ musings.

“Huh?”

“I said I'm going to head out to work on my car unless you need help with your chores?”  Dean has an odd look on his face, torn between amusement and concern, and Cas shakes himself out of his stupor.  While Cas was spaced out Dean had moved to the kitchen doorway, where he was currently waiting for Cas' response.

“Oh, no I can manage, thanks,” he says in a hurry, grabbing his mug and pushing to his feet.

“Alright," Dean shrugs.  Cas listens as he walks back to the guest room, not moving for the stairs until he hears the door latch.  Cas has never dressed so fast in his life, rushing back downstairs to grab his work boots. With one last glance back in Dean's direction, he yanks them on and hurries outside to get his work done.  Anna greets him with a happy whinny when he steps into the barn to gather up his things.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Cas apologizes, noting that Amelia has stuck her head out too.  “Had an unexpected house guest.” Neither of the mares seem impressed, and he sighs in a heavy rush of breath, gathering up the tools to groom them.  Amelia is much more affectionate than she usually is, which surprises Cas. She moves over to him as soon as he walks into her stall, bowing her head to press against his chest.  Like she knows he needs the comfort. He smiles as he scratches along her ears. “Thanks, pretty girl,” he hums. Castiel feels much lighter as he finishes the rest of his work.

Disgusting, sweaty, smelly, and filthy, Cas finishes with the chickens an hour or so later.  Bending to grab the basket of eggs, he glances down the driveway. Dean is standing over his car, the hood propped open, with his arms crossed in frustration.  At least he put on a shirt, damn distracting, attractive beta. Cas wanders over, getting within about ten feet before stopping.

“Need anything?” he calls out.  Dean looks up and makes no secret about giving Cas a good once-over with his eyes.  Cas shifts on his feet, warming under the attention.

“Wow.”  It's one word, but it seems to sum up all Dean wants to say.  Cas looks down at himself, feeling very self-conscious about how grimy he is.

“Wow, I'm disgusting?” Cas ventures and Dean smirks, making Cas' heart do this weird thump in his chest.

“Not exactly the word I’d use,” Dean hums darkly.  Cas is surprised he's not more nervous, but he has to admit he kind of likes the attention.  Most people get a whiff of his overcharged ‘alpha-ness’ and turn right around. Having someone express interest was...nice.  Especially someone like Dean. Cas gestures behind him at the house with his free hand.

“I've got a day job to do, so I'm going to clean up.”

“Too bad,” Dean sighs, and okay he has to be over-exaggerating his disappointment, right?  Cas turns away before Dean can see his grin, very aware of Dean's eyes on him as he walks back up to the house.  He may or may not put a little extra sway into his hips.

The contrast between the humidity, and Dean's stare, with the air conditioning inside, makes Cas shiver as he kicks off his shoes.  He stops in the kitchen long enough to put the eggs away before heading upstairs to shower. He gets the water running and strips while he waits for it to heat up.  He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, trying to see himself with Dean's eyes. He isn't toned into the perfect muscular body, but he's not slim either. His hips have this weird curve to them that he's never liked, but Dean must have seen something to look at Cas that way... Steam starts to catch on the edge of the mirror and Cas steps into the shower.  As he scrubs, he finds his thoughts drifting again to the beta downstairs and his soothing scent.

Cas' whole life had been nothing but discomfort and a struggle to maintain control.  He avoided strangers, and he hated surprises, much like the one Dean had given him appearing on his doorstep.  Yet all the worry he'd felt when Dean first arrived is gone now. He could smile and laugh around this total stranger, and in return, Dean didn't seem put off by Cas’ scent.  Not to mention the gorgeous green eyes, those kissable lips, the trim body, the graceful movements, the way he could cook, and the feel of his gaze on Cas’ body...

Musky alpha arousal spread into the bathroom, and Cas’ hands are moving downward before he has a chance to stop and think about it.  He doesn't want to think about it, he just... wants. His soap slick fist closes around his hardening cock, the scent of his arousal thickening in the air.  Cas closes his eyes and lets his imagination take over. He feels Dean’s lean chest pressing against his, muscled arms around his torso. He sees himself bending his head to Dean’s neck, drinking in that glorious clean, sweet scent.  He imagines kissing Dean’s neck, tasting the scent at its source, getting drunk on it. His other hand reaches down to wrap around the base of his cock, his knot already forming beneath his fingers.

A couple more pulls and a well-placed squeeze has him coming over his fist as he collapses against the shower wall.  It takes ten minutes before his knot finally goes down, the longest for a solo session in a long time. He scrubs down again to wash the arousal off, hoping his house guest won't notice.  He wants to feel bad about getting off to fantasies about a stranger, but Cas reasons maybe now he'll be able to keep a clearer head around Dean.

He dresses in a pair of basic jeans and a blue plaid, short sleeve button up, making his way downstairs to the office.  From the first floor, he can hear the faint sound of classic rock playing from outside, which catches his curiosity. He peeks out the front window to see Dean bopping his head to the music as he works.  Cas smiles, riding on the good mood from his solo session, and heads to work with a bounce in his step. He knows the moment Charlie sees his name come online when his phone buzzes.

“You know, you don't have to call and check in every single day."  He makes sure to put some fake annoyance into his voice for good measure.

“I need you to tell me it's a bad idea to remote hack into Dick’s computer and make his desktop a picture of a dildo.”  

“Charlie that's an awful idea,” Cas deadpans.

“Aw, you're not supposed to agree with me!” she whines.

“But you just said-”

“I know what I said,” she sighed.  “But Cas… picture his face." She sounds so happy Cas almost feels bad about raining on her parade.

“It's not worth it."

“And the pun!  It's a pun, Cas!”

“You need a job, Charlie.”

“Fine, spoilsport,” she huffs.  “So, whatcha doing?”

“Working.”  Cas isn't entirely lying, he is updating his spreadsheets and making notes about invoices.  He's just also listening to Dean sing along in a decent voice to Eye of the Tiger

“Working, huh, then why do you sound so spacey?” she asks, curiosity in her voice.

“Nothing."  Cas sits up straight as if he acts like he's paying more attention it'll help hide it in his voice.

“Mmhmm.  That's not suspicious at all.”

"I'm an accountant, Charlie.  Half the time I'm only moving numbers around, so yeah, even doing nothing is doing something."

"Don't logic me, Cas."

“I'm hanging up now, Charlie.”

“You know you love me,” she teases in a sing-song voice.  And yeah, if it weren't for her, he would have gone insane years ago, and she knows it.  

“I know,” Cas sighs, hanging up the phone as she giggles.

It's soothing, listening to the muted sound of classic rock and Dean's singing voice as he works.  In a weird way, it's making him more productive, catching up on projects he'd been behind on for weeks.  His phone rings again, but it's only Gabe so he lets it go to voicemail. All his cousin would do is fret over the animals, and Cas doesn't want to try and explain his mood to him; Gabe wouldn't let it go as easily as Charlie.

As his stomach starts to grumble for lunch, he considers calling Charlie back.  Lying to her about Dean isn't sitting right with him; she's his confidant and like a little sister to him, and he never keeps secrets.  A small selfish voice in his head convinces him he wants to keep Dean to himself, at least for a little while longer. After all, Dean would be gone by evening, then he could talk all he wanted about the beautiful stranger without fear of being overheard.  

Maybe over lunch, Cas can fix some of the 'stranger' part of his description.

Cas posts an away message announcing he's on lunch and pushes back from his desk to stretch.  He heads to the kitchen for a glass of ice water, careful not to spill as he slides on flip flops and heads down the driveway.

Dean is sitting on a metal cooler with his head bowed, the sweat soaking through his shirt and making it cling to his skin.  Cas catches Dean’s scent again, still very faint, but now that he's found it once it seems easier to pick it out of the air. Right now it's mixed with the bitter tang of frustration.  When Dean looks up as he approaches, his face breaks into a smile that Cas can't help but return.

“Here, don't dehydrate.”  Cas offers him the cup of water, and Dean accepts with a brush of his fingers.

“Been trying not to,” Dean pats the cooler beneath him, "but it'll be nice to have something cold.  Thanks, Cas."

“How's the work coming?” Cas asks, trying not to seem completely obvious about his small talk.  Dean downs a third of the water, releasing a loud satisfied sigh before looking over his shoulder at the car.

 

“Mechanical-wise she’s all good, but she needs some more oil."  Dean pats the car with a fond slap of his palm. "Baby's only thirsty."  Cas watches as a drop of sweat makes its way from Dean’s hairline, down the curve of his neck, to the hollow of his throat.  

“I think we’ve got a few bottles of oil,”  Cas says through his distraction, pointing over his shoulder at the garage on the far side of the house.  His shower hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped.

“Thanks,” Dean grunts as he stands, making Cas swallow hard, “but I've got to use a specific kind.  She's an older gal, she can't have just anything."

“My brother has an older truck, and I drive a 1978 Lincoln Continental, we probably have high mileage oil in there.”  Dean blinks at him, a small wave of gratitude brushing Cas’ nose. So he isn't imagining it, Dean’s scent is getting stronger.

“Guess it doesn't hurt to check,” Dean admits.  Cas leads him over to the garage, the metal screeching as Cas slides it open to reveal his car and the other supplies stored in there.  Dean barks out a laugh, grinning from ear to ear. “Wow, it's even painted gold. Were you a pimp before moving out here?”

“What's wrong with my car?” Cas frowns.  Dean clears his throat, trying to hold in his amusement, but Cas catches the mirth beneath the surface.

“Nothing, you're right, I'm sure it's a great car.  Sorry to tease.”

"Actually, it guzzles gas like crazy and makes this weird rumbling noise when I go above 50."  Cas walks past his Lincoln, turning for the shelf where Gabe keeps the spare oil. "But thank you for defending its honor."  Dean laughs again, and Cas smiles back before grabbing the three bottles of oil. “These are what we have.” He walks back over to Dean who looks them each over, grinning as he grabs one.

“This will work great, thanks Cas.”  Dean pats Cas on the shoulder before he turns back for his car, his hand a heavy warmth through Cas’ shirt.  Cas doesn't move for a moment, the small touch catching him off guard. He barely remembers to put the rest of the oil away before closing the garage behind him to keep the cats out.  Cas heads over to see if Dean needs help changing the oil and reaches him in time to see Dean close the hood of the car.

“Need something else?”

“Lunch.  I'm starving,” Dean smirks, turning for the house.  Cas hurries after him, making it to the door first since Dean paused to kick off his boots.

“I'll make us something.”  As he moves past Dean and into the kitchen, he catches a glimpse of Dean’s amused smirk.

“Need to show off your own amazing cooking?” Dean follows at a much calmer pace, refilling his cup with some ice from the freezer.

“Oh no, your cooking is far superior, I just… want to make lunch.”  Cas knows there's a small blush dusting his cheeks, but he doesn't have a better explanation.  

"Thanks, Cas."  There's something soft in Dean's voice that Cas is going to force himself to ignore.  Dean refills his water and sets it on the table while he washes the engine grime off his hands and lower arms.  Hoping to distract himself from Dean's flexing, Cas scrambles to gather sandwich ingredients and piles them on the counter.  

"Hope a simple sandwich is okay."  

Dean turns off the sink and grabs the towel to dry his hands, smiling at Cas.

"A sandwich sounds great."  Dean hangs the towel up, trading places with Cas who moves to grab plates out of the cabinet.  He breathes deep while Dean's close by, picking up on something mild and pleased. Cas is getting better at picking out the superficial scents and finding the core, calming scent of Dean.  His brain continues to wander in spite of himself, and he starts to wonder what Dean would smell like from the source, his nose pressed into the nook where Dean’s jaw meets his neck, where the scent glands are strongest...  

“Sorry about the stink,” Dean says, sounding self conscious, misinterpreting Cas’ reaction to his scent.  “I’d shower, but I'm gonna to go back out there again.”

“It's fine," Cas blurts, maybe a bit too quick, and he mentally curses his awkwardness.  “I mean, being out here with the animals, I've kinda learned to deal with bad smells.” He drops the piece of bread on top of the sandwich before he realizes what he said.  

“Wow, Cas, calling it like you see it,” Dean huffs.  Cas spins around, flushed from ears to hairline.

“No, I meant-”  Dean is standing directly in front of him, closer than he expected, a huge smile on his face.  Cas’ eyes are drawn to Dean's lips again, and he swallows hard as Dean’s amusement floods into his nose.  From less than a foot apart, Cas watches as Dean's cocky smile fades into something gentle. Dean takes a deep breath before leaning forward a bit, his arm brushing Cas’ as his eyes drift over Cas’ face.

“Thanks for the sandwich.” Dean takes one of the plates from behind him and Cas nods on autopilot, watching as Dean walks back to the table.  

“Y-you're welcome.”  Cas has to remind himself to breathe, his heart beating a hard rhythm against his sternum.  He can only imagine what he smells like to Dean right now, and it makes him a little nervous.  Confusion, embarrassment, and attraction are not a good combination.

“You okay?” Dean asks, watching Cas as he picks up his own plate in shaking hands.

“I, uh, this is kind of out of my comfort zone,” Cas admits, sitting down at the table to hide how unsteady he's feeling.  “You've spent the night, we've shared two meals, and I still don't know anything about you. Well, outside of you being good with cars.”

“Well, what do you want to know?” Dean asks around a mouthful of sandwich.  Cas shrugs, trying to come up with something simple and non-intrusive.

“What do you do for a living?” Cas finally asks.  Dean shrugs, a small shy tilt to his head and _oh god that's adorable_.

“Well, to be honest, I sorta quit my most recent job.  Kinda why I wound up out here in the middle of nowhere.”  

“What did you do?” Cas amends, taking a bite of his own food.

“Government contracting.”  Dean waves his free hand in a dismissive way at Cas’ confused head tilt.  “Sounds fancier than it is, I was a glorified secretary,” he adds with an embarrassed smile.

“I'm an accountant that doesn't get paid like an accountant,” Cas explains.  “I work from here for my brother Michael’s advertising company. Accounts payable-slash-receivable.  If we're having a boring job competition.” Cas decides that Dean's smile is worth his awkward attempt at humor.

"Yeah, but you're out here, you know, with the animals and the open space and nature... It's better than being cooped up in a building all day surrounded by assholes."

"I suppose."  That was the best part about Cas' arrangement with his brother, but hearing the words come from Dean strikes something in him.

“Am I assuming too much?”  Dean's genuine concern brushes the air between them and Cas shakes his head.

“I prefer it.” Cas keeps his eyes focused on his sandwich as he keeps talking.  “I have hyperosmia." Dean doesn't say anything, so Cas keeps talking to fill the silence.  “Most people don't know, only a handful of my closest friends and family. Because of it, I need to be out here alone.”  Dean’s scent changes, but not how he expects. Cas reads the subtle curiosity and concern, but they're muted underneath overwhelming empathy.  He expected the other emotions, but empathy was totally new.

“I've heard of that condition in betas, but an alpha?”  Dean’s eyes widen. “Your scent— that makes more sense now.”

“It does?”  Cas is surprised this beta even knows about his problem, let alone understands it.

“Well, yeah, people with hyperosmia have heightened instincts and stronger scent responses.  Most alphas, as you know better than me, smell heavier, like a woodsy smell, abrasive. I don't know if anyone has told you, but you… it's like a sandalwood, it's… comforting.”  Just like this beta’s scent is for me. Cas shifts in his chair under Dean’s gaze.

“I-I've been told that when I try to be calming, that it's very effective.”  When Michael and Charlie had each gone through bad breakups, all they needed was to sit in the same room with Cas to get over the scent bond withdrawal.  His alpha need to comfort and care for them took over and made him a walking warm blanket. “But if you know all that you know that when I get upset, it's a hundred times worse for the people around me.”  Cas folds his arms over himself, feeling self-conscious and trying to read Dean.

“Yes, I imagine you could become very… potent.  Your anxiety when I showed up last night was quite impressive,” Dean smiles to take the sting out of his words.  

“It almost cost me my job,” Cas admits.  “I was coming up on a rut, and with my hormones going crazy I ended up squaring off with my old boss in the office.  A pure alpha dominance display in all its stereotypical glory. If my brother hadn’t stepped in… anyway. Michael gave me the option to work from home, so I moved out here and never looked back.”

“Must be lonely.”  Dean’s scent shifts into pity, and Cas shakes his head.  He doesn’t want pity, especially not from Dean.

“Not really.”  Cas smiles to help emphasize his words.  “I have Gabriel and the animals. My best friend Charlie comes to visit me and so does my brother from time to time.  It’s enough to be able to breathe.”

“So, dating, all that jazz, never crossed your radar?” Dean asks, trying too hard to be casual.  Cas swallows hard, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“So why'd you quit your job?” he asks, hoping to divert the conversation into something else, anything else.  Dean’s eyes narrow a bit, but he accepts the change of subject.

“My father is very controlling,” Dean explains, turning serious.  “Aggressively protective. I don't blame him for it, we lost my mom when I was very young and he had to raise me and my brother as best he could.”  Dean’s scent is darkening, and Cas regrets asking the question. “I'm not angry with him for it, though my brother always gave him grief. I know he wanted what was best for us.  An alpha protecting his pups.” Dean picks up their empty plates, walking them over to the sink. “I was suffocating, though. I needed to get away, do things my way for at least a little while.”

“There's nothing wrong with that.”  Dean is quiet, glancing over his shoulder as he washes their dishes, a sobriety in his eyes Cas hasn't seen there yet.

“Not everyone sees it that way."

“I'm sorry, Dean,” Cas puts every bit of genuine feeling into his scent, hoping it helps.  Dean shrugs, drying his hands and turning to lean against the kitchen counter. His body language says he couldn't care less, but his scent speaks of deep wounds he's not ready to show off yet.

“So, you must have had a life, growing up,” Dean changes the focus back to Cas.  Clever bastard.

“It would have been better, had my mother not been so stubborn.”  Cas surprises himself yet again for his choice of topic but doesn't back down.  “My last name is Novak, my family used to be the governors of the Southeast before the Chancellorship took over completely.”

“Yeah, the name sounds familiar,” Dean nods.  

“My mother felt that, even now, the name should still carry weight.  That it should still be respected, and as a result, she was a stickler for order, a bit of perfectionist.  She insisted my brother Michael and I go to certain schools, get certain jobs, all so we’d be worthy of the Novak name.  I think she felt disappointed when Michael was born a beta, so she was kind of riding all her hope on me being an alpha. When I presented with my… _problem_ , she couldn’t deal with my condition.  She refused to see it, distanced herself from me, basically treated me like I was invisible.  She refused to acknowledge that her perfect image of her perfect alpha son was anything but, well, perfect.  I didn't get on scent suppressors till I was 18 and could get them myself.”

“That's awful,” Dean's voice is almost a growl, and Cas’ chest warms at Dean’s anger on his behalf.  “I've only read about it, but I can only imagine what a rut must have been like for you. Especially if you were without suppressors that long."  Cas shifts, memories coming to the surface that he’d honestly rather forget. Dean’s cheeks flush too when he realizes the sensitive topic he’d broached.  “Sorry, Cas.”

“No, you’re absolutely right.”  Cas crosses his arms, staring at the table as he starts talking, unable to stop the words once they’ve started.  “Presenting is supposed to be a small change, a mild fever matched with a heightened libido for a couple days. For me… it felt like the world was turned _completely_ upside down.  The new smells alone were like a punch to the gut with every breath I took.  I could smell _everything_ and _everyone_ , like I had been blind and was suddenly able to see.”

“You can scent betas?” Dean asks, a strange tone in his voice, and Cas nods.  

“My first rut… I blacked out for part of it and the rest… all I remember is hurting.”  He grits his teeth, unable to keep the bitter stench from wafting off of him. “My rut was a week-long torture of intense pain, burning skin, buckets of sweat, and a desperate need to mate.  I was 13.”

“And your mother did nothing?  Didn’t get a doctor?” Cas shakes his head, pretending he’s not comforted by Dean getting upset on his behalf.

“Michael took care of me, kept me fed and hydrated when I was lucid and… kept me from escaping when I wasn’t.   When it was over he'd do my laundry, and we’d both pretend it hadn't happened.”

“Holy shit, Cas.  How could she see that happen and not realize how bad you were hurting?” Dean spits.  “How could she make your brother take care of you?”

“She tended to… disappear.”  Cas has accepted his childhood and moved on, but Dean’s scent is turning sour with genuine anger.

“You're her son.  I may have hated my dad for some of the things he'd do, but at least I knew he did them because he cared too much.”  Cas stands, walking over to Dean and placing a hand on his forearm where it's folded against his chest. Risking crossing a line, Cas taps into his overactive instincts.  He tries to use his alpha pheromones to calm Dean, to sooth the emotions he’s worked up in the other man.

“It's done,” he says, his voice a gentle hum.  “I'm okay now.” Cas can smell how soft his own scent has become, and it's a bit surprising how easy it was.  He's always carried a slight edge to his scent, that defensive wall against a world that's too much for him. Here, as he focuses on soothing Dean, that edge falls away.  From the wide-eyed look Dean's giving him, Dean can scent the change too.

“Sorry, Cas.  I guess I got a little carried away,” Dean murmurs after a while, both of their scents returning to normal.  Cas removes his hand, his fingers warm where they were pressed against Dean’s skin.

“It's okay, it was kinda nice, having someone worry about me for once.” Cas manages a smile, moving back to give Dean his space.  Dean watches him closely like he’s trying to make up his mind about something.

“You know, if you want, I could help you with your chores this evening?  The Impala should rest another day, and I don't want to invade your space without some kind of compensation."  Dean says it quick, hand running through his hair in a nervous tick. Cas swallows the swooping feeling in his stomach because _Dean wants to stay_.

“Of course,” Cas says with a smile.  Dean beams at him. A wave of gratitude hits the air, a fresh sweetness which makes Cas’ heart swell to unexpected levels.

“Great!  I'll go finish with the oil, come and get me when you need me.”  Dean leaves the kitchen with a beaming smile, and Cas watches him go with a warmth in his chest.  He turns to leave and catches his reflection in the microwave, blinking in surprise at the wide smile on his face.


	3. Inconvenienced

Cas finishes his office work for the day much faster than usual.  He's sure it has  _ nothing  _ to do with his desire to spend more time talking to Dean.  Nothing at all. Cas changes into a set of work clothes and makes his way outside, the air warm and sticky.  Dean's sitting in the porch swing, sipping at another cup of water, an orange ball of fluff purring in his lap.   _ Content _ swirls in the air around Dean, and it makes Cas smile.

“Looks like you made a friend."  Sher Kan meows at him, and Dean scratches the cat’s ears with a fond smile.

“I think he's just hungry,” Dean hums.  As he shifts in the swing, Sher Kan jumps down, stalking off with his tail in the air towards where his bowl should be.

“He knows he gets fed last, that's the house rules,” Cas laughs at the cat’s indignant meow.  “You ready?” Dean stands, finishing his water while Cas very much does not watch his throat work as he swallows.  He sets the glass down on the porch and fixes Cas with a bright, eager smile.

“Sure, point me at what you need.”  Cas nods and walks down the porch steps, Dean following behind.

As they go through the evening chores, Cas instructs Dean on what to do, while also explaining what he's doing.  It surprises Cas how much Dean is enjoying himself, his enthusiasm bleeding into Cas' mood. Cas reaches the paddock, climbing the fence like normal and whistling.

"The horses aren't ours, but Gabe rents the barn out from time to time," Cas explains.

“I've always loved horses,” Dean sighs, a wistful shift in his scent.

“Me too, I was so excited when Gabe told me we’d be boarding these girls for a while."  Anna comes up to the barn first, and pauses when she notices Dean’s presence. “This is Anna,” Cas says, walking up to her with slow and measured steps so he doesn't spook her.  He gets a hold of her bridle and she follows him closer to the fence.

“She's gorgeous,” Dean smiles, reaching out to pat the side of Anna's neck.  “And who’s that?” Cas looks over to see Amelia walking right over to Dean with no hesitation.

“That's Amelia, she's a bit of a brat,” Cas warns, leading Anna away and into the barn.

“You gonna let him talk about you like that?” Dean chuckles as Amelia nuzzles into his arms.  Cas turns from locking Anna's stall and watches as Dean reaches up to scratch her ears. “She reminds me of a horse I used to ride, when I was younger.  I was raised near a ranch, and me and my brother used to sneak off to ride the horses.” Cas walks over to Amelia as Dean is talking. “`Course, we thought we were sneaking,” Dean continues with a smile.  “Joe would always have the horses ready, and my dad never seemed to wonder where we’d gone.” Dean strokes Amelia’s neck one last time as Cas takes her bridle to lead her inside.

“Reminds me of my own dad,” he admits, the same wistful scent shifting from Dean to himself.  

“How so?”  Cas walks back over to where Dean is, leaning on the fence and watching him with curious eyes.  Cas takes a brief hit of Dean’s scent, letting it relax him so he can talk.

“My father was an artist, and very free spirited.  He used to take me and my brother out all over the state, to parks and springs and all corners of nature.  He would sketch while we would play, but... I remember sometimes I would sit and watch him make a blank canvas come to life.”  Cas smiles as memories he hasn't thought about in years begin to surface. Memories of him and Michael jumping into crystal clear springs in their underwear.  Memories of hiking back to the car half soaked and covered in dirt, his father in the lead with sticks in his hair. “We’d come home filthy, and race to see who could get washed and cleaned first before Mom came home.  She always seemed to find out, though.” He ignores the feeling of Dean’s eyes on him as they fall into step, walking towards the chickens.

“So you’ve always lived around here?” Dean asks.

“Born and raised within 40 miles of here, actually,” Cas nods.

“We ended up moving from the country to the city, and I've never really felt right there.  I need this,” Dean gestures around him. “The open air and the dirt and the smells.” Dean takes a deep breath, and Cas follows suit, the layered smells of nature he's accustomed to now mingling with the calm sweetness of the man next to him.

“I enjoy the space too,” Cas agrees, “though maybe for a different reason.”  Cas climbs into the chicken pen, noticing with a little annoyance that a decent amount of them haven't returned to the coop yet.

“Too many people?” Dean asks, and Cas pauses to glance at him, nodding.

“Yeah.  My ability to scent others is always on high; hard, gritty scents like anger are too sharp, pleasing scents like joy are too sickly sweet.   Being in public is… too much.” He turns his attention back to the chickens, some of them stirring as he steps inside their enclosure. “It's been 15 years since I presented, and still to this day, I can't control it sometimes.  Too many alpha and beta scents in the air and I get… overwhelmed. I lash out.” He scents Dean’s subtle empathy again, but can't bring himself to turn and see Dean’s face.

“But the suppressors help?” 

“A little.”  Cas starts rounding up the chickens, and Dean attempts to help.  Though all he manages to do is chase them around the pen, much to his embarrassment and Cas’ amusement.  Once the chickens are secure they head for the house, the sunset casting everything in a deep orange glow.

“I bet my mom would have loved it out here,” Dean says to himself, nostalgia in his voice.  Cas pulls off his work gloves, watching Dean’s face and scent closely. It doesn’t darken or close off, so he decides to push his luck at getting a bit more personal.

“You said you lost her when you were young?”  Dean pauses at the edge of the porch, kicking some dirt off his shoes.  He's quiet for a moment, but not long enough to make Cas uncomfortable.

“Yeah, she um, she died during my brother’s birth, she started bleeding and they couldn’t stop it.  My dad wasn’t the same after that. The uh… family tension got worse as we got older, mostly because Sam and Dad are both equally stubborn alphas.”  There's something of an edge to Dean’s scent now, and Cas feels a little guilty for pushing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” Dean insists, half smiling at Cas.  “I have some mixed feelings about my dad is all.”  Cas feels his brow furrow in confusion, and Dean walks up onto the porch itself, bending to remove his boots.  “He’s stern, harsh, not exactly ‘loving’. He runs a strict household, something me and my brother kind of resented growing up.  He wants what’s best for us, but it never matters what the fuck we want, you know?”

“Which is what?” Cas wonders aloud.  Dean shrugs in response, his eyes on his shoelaces.   _ Okay, sensitive topic _ .  “You think you might forgive him?” Cas switches his line of questioning.

“I don’t know.  He is my dad, but...” Dean finishes with his shoes, dropping them by the door.  “There’s some things people can’t let go.” Dean looks up at Cas, cautious curiosity in his eyes.  “I noticed earlier you referred to your father in the past tense?” Cas figures it's only fair, he'd asked a personal question, so it’s Dean's turn.

“He, um, he and my mom separated when I was 8.”  Cas leads Dean into the house, removing his own boots before stepping off the entryway rug.  “Haven’t seen him since. At first I’m sure my parents' ‘opposites attract’ marriage worked, but his spirit was too chaotic to stay with a woman like her.  Honestly, I think she only married him for what little renown he could add to what's left of the family name. I don’t really blame him for leaving.” Cas heads into the kitchen, bending to grab the cat food to avoid Dean's eyes.  Dean leans on the doorway to the kitchen, slight concern in his scent.

“Did she suffer from any withdrawal?” he asks, his voice quiet.  Cas shrugs, mashing up a can of wet food into the kibble like normal, using it to stay focused.  No one he's told this story to had ever smelled _ concerned _ for him before.

“I don’t know, not that I saw?  Mom would parade around saying it was her idea to kick him to the curb to save face.  I’m sure showing withdrawal symptoms wouldn’t have fed into that narrative,” he muses.  “Maybe it was why she didn’t want to be around me, I was just another source of chaos. A reminder of how he used to be.”  Cas picks up the bowls of food and walks back towards where Dean is standing.

“Hey, Cas, I’m sorry that happened to you.”  Dean's voice is quiet, his scent brushing Cas like a soft blanket.  Cas doesn't fight it, he takes in the comfort, not caring if Dean sees him do it.

“Thank you,” Cas says as genuine as he can.  He shakes off the mood, holding up the mush he's made.  “Now let’s go feed the cats before they start to eat us.”  Dean smiles and turns back to the front door, Cas following behind with the bowls.

Cas feels no small amount of amazement at how easy these personal stories seemed to flow between them.  Stories that it took Charlie years and a lot of booze to dig out of him. Cas’ life had been nothing but negativity from his mother and the world as a whole.  Which means Dean’s genuine kind and caring personality feels almost too good to be true. Not to mention the subtle flirting they've bantered back and forth, even if Cas is  _ horrible _ at it.  The way Dean smiles at him and praises him, Cas has  _ never _ had anyone treat him like that before.  It feels… good.

Once outside, both cats immediately start to rub against Dean’s legs, meowing at him even though Cas is the one holding the food.

“Wow, okay, I see how it is,” Cas scolds them, handing the bowls to Dean.  “New, handsome guy gets all the attention, boring old me gets nothing.” Dean huffs a small laugh, crouching to set the food down and giving each cat a scratch.  He looks up at Cas with a beaming smile as they start to eat.

“Handsome, huh?”  Cas’ eyes go wide and he feels his cheeks burn when he realizes what he's said.  “It's okay, Cas.” Dean stands and takes a step into Cas’ personal space. “You're still handsome, their love is just fickle."  Dean's voice is soft, his green eyes practically  _ caressing _ Cas’ face as his scent turns dark and sweet.  Cas watches, mesmerized as Dean’s tongue slips out to wet his lips.

“I should see what we have for dinner,” Cas blurts, turning away and hurrying into the house.  That wasn't subtle flirting that was… that was…

Cas leans on the kitchen counter to take a few cleansing breaths before digging a pizza out of the freezer.  Turning on the oven to preheat, he can smell himself now, his scent thick with nervous tension and…  _ oh god… arousal?!  Had Dean scented him?  _  Cas has never felt more mortified, running his hands over his face and doing his best to clear his scent.  The oven dings, and Cas slides the pizza inside, setting the timer with a shaking hand. 

Realization dawns on him when his eyes scan the kitchen, and he feels like an idiot.  He hadn't taken his scent blockers that morning. The strong swings in his mood and scent make a hell of a lot more sense now.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he hisses to himself, throwing open the side cabinet in a frantic scramble for the bottle.  He knocks into Gabe’s bottle of multivitamins, and it goes skittering across the floor. Cursing, Cas walks over to grab them, looking at the bottle curiously.

Dread settles cold and heavy in his stomach.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, pulling up Gabe’s voicemail.

 

_ “Yello, Cassie.  Hope the animals are all still alive.  Uh, as you may have noticed, I grabbed the wrong bottle from the cabinet.  Soooo sorry. If it gives you problems on your day trip with Charlie, I'll make it up to you somehow.  See you Thursday!!” _

 

No.

_ No, no, no. _

This is not okay, not with Dean here.

He  _ needs _ those.

Panic starts to fill him, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.  Broadcasting everything he's feeling in his scent is bad enough, but as they wear off he'll be hypersensitive to Dean’s reactions.  With this flirting game playing out between them-

“You okay?”  Cas spins to see Dean standing at the entrance to the kitchen.  His nostrils flared, face cautious, and Cas realizes it likely he's  _ choking _ on the scent of Cas' anxiety.

“Can you listen for the oven timer?  I'm going to shower.” Cas literally runs from the kitchen and upstairs, not waiting for Dean’s response.  As soon as his door closes behind him Cas starts shedding his clothes. He turns on the water and climbs in the shower before it warms up, the cold a welcome shock to his system.  With a shuddering sigh he sinks down the tile wall to sit at the bottom of the bathtub, tucking his head between his knees to try and clear it.

Cas knows that as the blockers work their way out of his system, he's only going to get worse.  He's already feeling Dean’s effect on him in the way his scent and moods are bouncing around, and Dean’s  _ scent _ ...  Cas isn't due for a rut for another month, but if he's not careful, this could kick start his biology anyway.  And he  _ really _ doesn't want Dean around for that.

He can't trust himself.

He's going to have to ask Dean to leave, it's as simple as that.   

He gasps when the idea of Dean leaving actually  _ hurts _ .  Has he really already become that attached?  Or is it because Dean was the first person who wasn't scared or put off by Cas’ condition?  That he was the first person who seemed to give a damn about  _ him, _ not his nose?  

He leans against the side of the tub, rubbing his temple, his scent still recovering but not as bad as it has been.  It’s all biological, this connection, it has to be. It’s not like it was the first time this had happened, either. In the years following his presentation, he’d accidentally formed a couple scent bonds.  He hadn’t meant to, and there wasn’t any emotional connection behind them, it was just a fluke of his condition. Go figure that Cas meets someone like Dean the week his cousin is halfway across the state with his meds.  This is Cas’ life, though, everything good comes with something bad.

“Are you okay?” Dean’s voice drifts through the bathroom door, startling Cas out of his funk.  How long has he been in here?

“Yeah, I'm alright,” he calls.  His body is tired but he pulls himself to his feet.

“I've put your pizza in the microwave, just heat it up when you're done.”  

“Thanks,” Cas answers, scrubbing hard with his scent reducing body wash until his skin is raw, hoping it's enough for the time being.  He dresses before he dries off and walks back downstairs. Dean's waiting in the kitchen, washed up and changed, concern coloring his scent.  

“You alright?  You gave me a bit of a scare,” Dean's voice is even and soothing.  Cas doesn't want it to be. He reheats his pizza, taking a deep breath.

“My cousin accidentally packed my suppressors,” he admits, pulling his pizza out of the microwave and sitting at the table.  There's a beat of silence as Dean absorbs his statement.

“I could run to the store and grab some,” Dean offers, and Cas shakes his head.

“Thanks, really, but mine are prescription.  Over the counter doesn't work for me.” Cas focuses on eating his food, using it as a distraction from Dean’s concern and his presence in general.  It's quiet for a few minutes before Dean speaks again.

“I’ve read that people like you… your condition evens out if you find a mate."  Cas isn't sure what to make of Dean's soft tone, so he adds it to the list of things he's ignoring.

“That's what the doctor said,” he agrees with a shrug, as casual as possible with Dean talking about  _ mates _ .

“Have you tried, before, to find someone?”  Dean asks questions in a genuine way, not talking down to him or poking fun.  Another difference between Dean and everyone else.

“Doesn't everyone?”  Dean raises an eyebrow in question of Cas’ non answer.  “It's twice as hard for me,” Cas admits with a huff. “Finding someone who understands what I'm going through, someone who can tolerate my scent on my bad days, someone whose scent I can tolerate _ every _ day."  He eats some more to hide his discomfort, Dean waiting patiently for him to continue.  “I got close to someone once, we seemed compatible enough scent wise for me to make an effort.  She was full of attitude but underneath it she had a kind heart. She could handle me if I lost control when we were…” he trails off on a blush and Dean smiles.

“I get the idea."  The smile fades, replaced with a soft look Cas wants to shy away from.  “What happened?”

“She didn't want to be mated,” Cas says, as matter of fact as he can.  “I got so close to biting one night, I had gone into a craze, and she had to almost knock me unconscious to get me out of it.”  Cas pushes the last piece of his pizza away, regret clouding his scent. “Hard to come back from that.” 

“A craze?” Dean wonders.  Cas chews his lip, nervous about Dean's reaction to this.

“During sex, my instincts take over and I lose myself to them.  I’m basically reduced to base animal urges, looking for somewhere to shove my knot.”  The words hang in the air between them long enough he starts to worry he's finally scared Dean away.  It's Dean’s fault anyway, Cas hadn't planned on talking about mates and sex.

“My dad,” Dean starts, “has made it his mission lately to try and get me mated.”  Cas lifts his gaze to watch Dean talk. “My brother is an alpha, so I guess he figures Sammy will find a mate on his own.  For me… he’s picked out three or four alphas that he keeps shoving at me, all pre-approved by him.” Dean’s scent only holds a trace of bitterness, but Cas can tell beneath the surface there's more.  Dean's holding back on his own scent now. 

“Seriously?” Cas huffs a humorless laugh.  “He wants to arrange your mating?” Cas may have a shit lot in life, but there’s nothing so degrading and old fashioned as arranged matings.  Admiration for Dean pushes warmth into his chest. 

“Yeah, he’s trying his damnedest,” Dean shrugs.  “The one thing all those alphas, men and women, had in common?  They were all there for their own selfish reasons but not for  _ me _ .”  A little sadness makes its way into Dean’s scent.  “Call me a hopeless romantic, but I want to choose my own mate.  I want to fall for them, not for their gender, their money, their genetics.  I want to take someone's bite because I love them. I want to tell our pups that their parents love each other, and they were born from that love.”  Dean says the words with meaning, and Cas  _ shuts down _ the idea those words put in his head.  The idea of a mate and pups and 'happily ever afters' was never something he's ever expected for himself.  

“I hope you find that someday.”  Cas' hope for Dean is genuine, because a man like Dean deserves to know that kind of happiness.  If he's honest with himself, he even feels a little jealousy, because Dean is so beautiful Cas  _ knows _ he’ll find it.  Dean’s nostrils flare at the shift in Cas' scent, and Cas mentally curses his cousin for taking his blockers.

“You think you won't?” Dean asks, voice quiet.  Cas shrugs, trying to play it off as no big deal.  

“I might, I guess, but I'm not banking on it.”

“Cas-”

“Don't.  Don't feel sorry for me."  Dean seems like he wants to object, but to Cas’ relief, he nods and moves on.

“If you did, you know, find someone, would you want pups?”  Well, Cas hoped he was moving on. Dean's voice almost sounds forced to be casual, so at least Cas isn't alone in his discomfort.  Cas flushes at the personal question, but finds himself answering anyway.

“If I ever found someone, then yeah, I guess.  But that's a big  _ if _ .”  Dean’s eyes find Cas’ and they’re sad and beautiful and all the talk about kids and mates mixed with Dean’s scent is too much.  Cas looks away, standing and carrying his leftovers to the counter. He focuses on keeping his hands steady as he wraps up his pizza, trying to get a fucking  _ hold _ of himself.  The swooping in his stomach when Dean looked at him has sent his thoughts going places they couldn't.  Not like this, without suppressors, when his emotions are on edge, and even washing his hands seems difficult.  He has to remind himself again he's only known Dean  _ one day _ , for fuck’s sake.

“It might be best if you go,” Cas murmurs before he loses his nerve, meticulous as he dries his hands on the dish towel to avoid looking at Dean.

“You want me to leave?” Dean asks, a nervous disappointment clouding his scent.  Immediately Cas’ body is reacting, wanting to make that feeling go away, make Dean feel better.  He refuses to process how much  _ easier  _ it was getting to scent Dean in the first place.

“No!” Cas insists, blushing at how fast that came out.  “It's just, when I'm off my meds, things get… more difficult to control.”

“Things?”

“Everything,” Cas sighs.  “It all comes up to the surface, and everything becomes more…  _ intense. _  I can't control it.”  He feels his cheeks burning red, chewing his lip as the nerves take over.  “I don't trust myself, Dean.”

“I trust you.”  Dean’s voice is quiet, but Cas hears and smells it’s 100% true.

“You shouldn't,” Cas mutters sadly.  Dean walks up to him and reaches out, nudging Cas’ chin with his knuckle till Cas looks up at him.

“I know we’ve just met, I know there's a lot more we can learn about each other, but scent doesn't lie, Cas.”  Dean’s eyes flash with something, his scent, the calming sweetness, reaches out and wraps around Cas. “You're a good man, who's been dealt a difficult hand with no one to help him.  And I know this sounds fucking nuts but I want to keep getting to know you, so maybe…” Whatever ‘maybe’ is hangs unspoken between them. Cas breaks his gaze away, his breath coming faster as his heart beats like a drum against his sternum.

“You're right, this is fucking nuts.”  

“Well, as long as we’re in agreement,” Dean laughs breathily.  “Why don't we put a movie on, something to help us both relax?” he suggests.  Cas only hesitates a moment before he nods, Dean leading the way into the living room.  

Cas lets Dean pick the movie as he adjusts the cushions on the couch.  He sets them up so they’ll cocoon whoever sits on the left side of the couch.  Cas sinks down into the empty space on the right side. When Dean finishes sliding the first Star Wars movie in, he turns to sit, raising an eyebrow at the pile of cushions.  Cas flushes, because yeah, it kind of looks a hell of a lot like another nest.

“Shut up,” he grouses as Dean grins and settles into the pile of pillows.  His comfortable sigh and calming scent make Cas’ cheeks warm, pleased with himself.  He tries real hard not to think about it.

Neither of them speak as the movie plays, but bit by bit Cas calms down.  Dean smells like comfort and contentedness, and pretty soon so does Cas. By the time the movie ends Cas is boneless, exhausted from his minor panic and completely soothed by Dean’s presence.

“Let’s get to bed,” Dean hums, his voice gentle as he turns off the TV with the remote.  Dean pulls himself up off the couch, shifting a couple of the pillows over onto Cas. They smell like Dean.

“Great idea,” Cas agrees, not moving from where he's curled up.  

“You planning on sleeping there?” Dean chuckles.  He stretches his arms over his head, the movement pulling his shirt up and flexing the muscles in his chest.  Cas gets a very gorgeous eyeful of tanned hips and the beginning of a small happy trail. In his blissed out state, he doesn't even think to try and mask his desire, the musky alpha scent slipping into the mix between them.  Dean’s head whips around and his eyes snap to Cas’, who realizes too late what just happened.

“Sorry,” Cas mumbles, a blush warming his face.  He stands, shaky on his feet and turns for the stairs avoiding Dean’s eyes.  He can feel Dean following behind him, and a thicker, sweet scent makes Cas pause on the second step and turn back.  Dean’s standing at the foot of the stairs, looking up at him, his green eyes wide and bright.

“Don't be sorry.”  Dean’s voice is  _ just  _ on the verge of husky, and Cas’ small grip on his self control fails.  He steps back down the stairs, leaning into Dean’s personal space, and kisses him.

The kiss is brief, but it sets a fire under Castiel’s skin as soon as he feels the warmth of Dean’s lips against his.  That same fire sends his logical brain into a panic. He pushes back against Dean’s chest, stumbling backwards up a few steps.  Alpha musk and the thick, sweet scent of  _ Dean  _ swirl in the air, making it hard for Cas to breathe.  Dean’s staring up at him, wide eyed and flushed.

“Cas—” Dean starts, but Cas cuts him off with a violent shake of his head.

“I'm so sorry, I told you, when I get like this I can't- I can't…”  His body is still reacting to the burst of Dean’s scent, and Cas runs for his bedroom, more aroused and embarrassed than he's ever been in his life.  

“Cas, wait!” Dean calls, but he doesn't pause, doesn't look back.  Cas slams the door to his bedroom and leans on it, panting like he ran a mile instead of a few steps.  Sweat is beading on his forehead and he wipes it away, palming futilely at himself. He feels betrayed by his own body, horrified and disgusted with himself.  

He'd kissed Dean.  Cas has spent his whole life trying  _ not  _ to be one of those asshole alphas, something made extra difficult because of his faulty nose.  And he'd fucking  _ kissed _ him.  A knock on the door behind him lets Cas know he’s not alone.  

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas sighed through the door.  “I didn't mean to,”

“Cas, shut up and listen to me,” Dean snaps, and Cas bites back a groan when it sends heat straight to his dick.  “Cas, you need to understand, it's not your fault. Your biology is different, but it's not broken, instead it reacts the way an alpha’s instincts should act.  If anything, you have a better grasp on life and emotions than anyone else possibly could.”

“That doesn't give me the right to violate your space.”  Cas grunts, his arousal still thick in the air around him, because  _ fuck his life  _ Dean smells amazing.  Cas wants to accept the logic in Dean’s argument.  He’s also impressed Dean already knows logic is how to get through to him when he’s like this.

“Cas, I've been doing nothing but flirt with you since I arrived,” Dean points out, making Cas smile.  He  _ wasn't _ imagining that after all.  “I should be the one apologizing for pushing you into that corner.”  He falls silent, and Cas tries to take in a steady breath. He fails when he catches the tiniest bit of Dean’s scent, still thick with what Cas is assuming is arousal, but tainted with anxiety.

“This is insane, it's been one day,  _ one day _ -”

“Yes, it's quick,” Dean interrupts.  “But I know you already, better than you think.”

“How’s that?” Cas whimpers.  His body is wondering why the door is still shut.  His brain is hoping the door will  _ never  _ open.

“You're in there, beating yourself up for kissing me.  Blaming yourself for not taking control of your body.” Dean's description is accurate, and Cas swallows hard against the urge to listen to him.  

“What the hell is happening here?” Cas asks into his dark room.  

“I don't know,” Dean answers with feeling, “but what I do know is I trust you, and trust doesn't come easy for me.”  

“Me neither,” Cas agrees.  “And you're not the one I don't trust, Dean,” Cas whimpers, “like I said before I don't trust myself.”

“Cas, let me in, let me help you.”  There's an urgency in Dean’s voice, and Cas wants to take Dean up on his offer.  He wants to open the door and let his scent and his body comfort Cas’ anxiety and frustration.  

“I can't,” he gasps out, the words a physical pain to say.  Dean isn't  _ getting _ it, he doesn't understand what Cas can do.

“Cas, please, I can help.”

“I can't,” Cas insists, a little stronger.  There's no way he's letting Dean into this room, not when he's hard as granite, pores leaking arousal and frustration.  Already he feels the blurring in his mind, where logical thought is overridden by his deeper instincts.  _ No, no don't blackout, please _ .

“Why not?  Tell me why, and know that if you don't have a good enough reason, I'm going to break down this door and _ make _ your scent better.”  Dean’s words are a deep rumble in his throat and Cas shakes as hot arousal pulses through him again.

“Because it hasn't even been two days since I met you,” Cas gasps.

“We've already shared the worst of our baggage,” Dean points out.  Cas turns to face the door, pushing on it with his arms, trying to shake the fuzzy feeling out of his head.

“Because I don't know what I could do.”  Sweat spreads over his skin at the sheer effort of fighting this.

“I can handle you, I'm a tough guy.”  

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Cas hisses, knocking his head against the door as the last remnants of his logical brain start to let go.  “Because you're a beta,” he blurts out. There's a slight pause before Dean’s answer this time.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don't have any condoms,” Cas admits, before he loses the ability to speak or think.  Male betas, while rare, can get pregnant, leftover from a time when they might have presented as omegas.  Judging by Cas’ reaction to Dean’s scent, he's one of those fertile betas. The thought of knocking Dean up spikes his anxiety while his instincts, and his body, _ love _ the idea.

“Cas… we don't have to go that far, I… I  _ need _ to help you.”  Dean’s scent is thick with concern and worry, but his voice is soft, a contrast to the emotions swirling in the air around them.  Cas leans his forehead against the door. 

“Dean, I can't.”

“Please."  Dean's pleading,  _ begging _ .  Cas whimpers, his vision blurring with instinctual haze as his logical restraint breaks.

Cas opens the door with a trembling hand.

Relief floods Dean’s scent, and his eyes shimmer as he smiles.  With the thin grasp of control Cas still has, he  _ barely _ keeps himself from jumping on Dean.  Instead, he turns and walks to his end table, turning on the small reading lamp to break up the darkness.  Cas drops to sit on the edge of the bed as his knees give out under the strain of his shaking. Dean follows him inside the room, closing the door and walking with slow measured steps to the bed, hands open and scent projecting calm.  Cas’ vision is still blurred, but his nose homes in on the beta in the room with him.

Dean’s arousal bleeds out into the bedroom as he steps into Cas’ space, looking down at him through half lidded eyes.  Cas whimpers again as his cock pressed against his zipper, completely out of his control. Dean’s scent thickens as their eyes meet and lock together. 

“Calm down, alpha,” Dean whispers, his breathing deep and measured.  Dean's voice is a command, there's no mistaking it, and it breaks through his hormonal haze.  Cas finds himself matching breaths with the man above him, and Cas' body starts to calm down. His eyes widen in surprise as the haze clears from his mind; he's no less aroused or aching, but he's more  _ himself _ .

“How did you—” Dean shakes his head minutely, and Cas falls silent, not wanting to break the spell Dean's cast over him.

“The moment I saw you,” Dean starts talking in a low voice, “I felt connected to you, your quiet reservedness.”  Dean’s hands leave gentle touches across Cas’ shoulders, their warm weight moving down to the hem of his shirt.

“Dean-” Dean shushes him again, and Cas gives up talking, letting Dean take control.  Sparks and goosebumps spread from Dean’s fingers where they dip under the slip of cotton.  With a small nod from Cas he pulls the garment off and tosses it aside. Cas is still in control of his mind, a clarity he'd never known before while being this intimate with anyone.

“I could sense a kindred spirit in you, a defensiveness against the world, but not an unkindness.  Not to mention your scent.” Dean continues, his hands making the trip back up to Cas’ shoulders, Cas’ skin alternating between heat and chills.  “Most alphas smell sharp and abrasive, but you were so soft and magnetic. I couldn't believe you were an alpha at first.” Dean drops to his knees in one smooth motion, and Cas can feel Dean’s eyes raking over his body like a physical touch.  The final bit of negative emotions clears from their scents, leaving nothing but desire in their wake. 

“Dean, the odds of you showing up, at my house of all places, and finding a boyfriend or some shit… they're astronomical.”  Cas tries to reason this out one last time, but Dean doesn’t seem to hear him.

“I'm sorry you've never known true compassion in your life.  I'm sorry that you've had to shoulder so much all alone.” Dean’s words trigger something in Cas, making him putty in Dean's hands.  It's like he never knew he was feeling those things until Dean said them, and it's a huge relief to have someone  _ understand _ .  “I'm sorry you don't let yourself believe good things can happen to you.”  Dean’s hands slide up the outside of Cas’ thighs, drifting to his hips, and around to the button of his jeans.  Waiting for another small nod from Cas, Dean gets permission and undoes the button and zipper. “I'm here now, Cas, you don't have to do this alone anymore.”  Dean is almost whispering now, his fingers dancing over Cas' waistband and settling on his hips. “You're not alone.”


	4. Dawning Realization

_ You’re not alone _ .

The tightness in Cas’ muscles releases, and the struggle goes out of Cas.  The deeper breaths allow him to scent the air better, scent Dean’s desire to calm Cas, as well as his desire  _ for _ Cas.  It runs deeper than sexual desire and touches on something buried within him.  Something primal and powerful. 

Dean stands up in one slow move, leaning over Cas and laying him down on the bed.  Cas watches with rapt attention as Dean pulls off his own shirt and pants, leaving him in boxer briefs.  Arousal and comfort float through the room as Cas relaxes into his mattress, arms propped up behind his head.  Dean’s hands retrace their path up his thighs, hooking into the denim waistband and tugging. Cas lifts his hips to ease their passing, a shy smile spreading across his face at Dean’s approving hum.  He's hard, tenting his boxer briefs an impressive amount, and Dean’s eyes glitter with a hunger as he takes him in, from head to... Cas flushes as Dean's tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

They teeter on the edge for a moment in the perfect balance of anticipation, both of them still and silent.  Cas isn't sure what they're waiting for, but something heady explodes into Dean’s scent, yanking a groan from the back of his throat.  Cas watches as Dean’s nostrils flare, his skin flushing as Cas’ scent responds to the surge from Dean, pouring his own arousal into the room.  Dean's finished waiting, climbing over Cas and bracing himself on his hands above him. He lowers himself down and brushes Cas' lips with a feather light touch before tilting his head to the side, baring his neck.

It's an invitation.

Cas leans forward, pressing his nose to Dean’s exposed pulse point and breathing deep.

Cas has never smelled anything so wonderful.  Dean makes a small noise in his throat as Cas brushes a few gentle licks against his skin, drinking in Dean’s taste.   _ Perfection _ isn’t a large enough a word for it, but it's all Cas can think of to describe it.  Dean relaxes above Cas, laying himself down to the side with his warm body pressed against Cas’.  Cas turns with him and nuzzles deeper into Dean’s neck, a happy hum in his throat. Dean’s arms wrap around him, pulling them close, and for the first time in Cas’ life, utter calm takes over him.  

Cas was expecting sex, but this… What Dean is doing with scent and touch is as intimate as sex, if not more so.  Arousal still simmers hot under Cas’ skin, but the urgency is gone. 

Then Dean rolls their groins together, Dean’s hardness presses into Cas’ pelvic bone.  Okay,  _ some _ urgency still lingers.

Cas doesn't want to lose this peaceful connection Dean's built, or make this less than what it could be… or what it should be.  Cas brushes a few more wet kisses against Dean's neck before he leans back to catch his eyes. When Dean leans in for a kiss, Cas stops him with a gentle press of a hand on his chest.  He catches a brief glimpse of Dean’s confusion before he tilts his own head, sliding his fingers into Dean’s hair and tucking him into the crook of his own neck. Dean breaths deep, a pleased sigh hot against Cas’ skin, his tongue darting out to trace the path of his breath.  Cas' inner alpha isn't fighting him like he expected, instead preening and pleased he's letting this beta sent him.

Cas finally realizes something really is different between them, more than emotions, but also more than biology.

“Mmm, amazing,” Dean hums, teeth catching his skin in gentle nips, his tongue soothing away the sting.  Cas instinctively lets out a soft growl in approval, a deep sound in the back of his throat, and he feels Dean shiver.  Cas rolls them, settling over top of Dean, looking down into his bright green eyes and finding a sense of  _ home _ he's never felt before.

“What have you done to me?” Cas asks on a sigh, trailing his fingers over Dean’s brow, his cheek, his lips.  

Dean blushes, but still manages to grab one of Cas’ fingers with his lips, sucking it into his mouth with a playful smirk.  He releases the finger, a shameless dark grin on his face. “Shouldn't you be asking what I'm _ going _ to do to you?”  

Cas groans, leaning down to claim Dean’s lips, his tongue pushing into Dean's mouth to taste him.  Hips collide and Dean's fingers push into his hair, and it's intoxicating and wonderful. Cas is thorough as he maps Dean’s mouth, basking in the glorious swirl of scent and physical sensation.  Dean spreads his legs, giving Cas more freedom of movement and uses his thighs to pull Cas closer.

Cas can feel his knot forming already, the shallow thrusts and kisses pushing him to his edge already.  He wants to feel embarrassed about it, but Dean’s tongue is tracing his teeth and his hands tug at Cas’ hair and he doesn't fight it.  He breaks from Dean’s mouth, gasping for air, nosing under Dean’s ear.

“You're so fucking beautiful.  It's not fair, it isn't,” Cas murmurs.  Dean moans, a long drawn out sound, and Cas drops his hand, frantic as he frees them both from their underwear.  As soon as he feels skin on skin contact he knows it won't be much longer. “ _ Fuck _ , Dean, I need- I need to...”

“Hey, Cas, I got you.”  Dean drops his hand to give Cas something to thrust his knot into, his fingers giving him a gentle squeeze on each thrust.  Cas' instincts want him to mark Dean, to spread his release over Dean’s skin and claim him, but he knows he shouldn't. Cas pushes himself up on his hands, hanging on to conscious thought as much as he can so he won't spill over Dean.  Dean’s legs close vise like around him, locking him into place before he can move.

“Dean, I can't-” he breaks off on a moan as Dean gives his knot a well placed squeeze.

“Castiel, mark me,” Dean pleads, his eyes crystal clear.  “Come for me." Cas bends back over Dean, tucking himself close and thrusting faster into Dean’s hand as Cas' mouth closes over Dean’s racing pulse point.  With one final thrust his knot catches on Dean’s fingers, his body going rigid as he spills over Dean's stomach. There's a bruise on Dean's neck, his tongue soothing the red mark his teeth left behind.  Dean’s hand massages his knot again and Cas moans, another spasm shaking him and adding to the mess on Dean’s stomach.

“ _ Fuck _ , Cas,” Dean gasps, voice still thick with tension.  _  Dean hasn't come _ .  Cas rolls them, Dean sitting over top of him and propped on his hands while Cas’ hand finds Dean’s cock.  Cas’ alpha instinct to dominate and claim seems okay with yielding to Dean, and he feels a lazy smile on his face.  Dean’s eyes widen at the significance of the gesture; if this is happening Cas wants to be scent marked too. 

“It's okay, Dean,” Cas reassures him, his clean left hand moving up to trace Dean’s lips.  The angle isn't perfect but Cas does the best he can and soon Dean is spilling over Cas’ stomach with a soft cry.  Dean collapses forward, kissing and scenting Cas as the mess they've made dries on their skin.

They lay together in the afterglow, sharing lazy kisses as fingers explore the bare skin of arms, backs, and chests.  Neither of them say anything, and Cas realizes with no small surprise that they don't have to. Their scents are both exposed and strong, so he can't exactly hide it when the endorphins wear off and the worry sets in.  Cas gasps when the full weight of reality hits him.

“Oh, shit.  We just… we marked each other.”  He tries to keep the rising panic out of his voice, but judging by Dean’s bemused smile, he's failed.

“Yeah, we did.  And you smell absolutely amazing right now,” Dean hums, nosing into Cas’ neck.

“Dean, we hardly know each other.  How are you okay with this?” Cas' voice is definitely panicky now, and Dean pauses, looking up at him.

“Are you not okay with it?”

“Yes, I'm okay with it, but… I don't know.” 

“Cas, we’re two consenting adults, and what we did tonight we can fix with a couple extra showers.”  Dean almost sounds disappointed. "There's nothing to worry about." Cas sighs, relaxing into Dean’s warmth, calming when he realizes Dean's right.

“So what happens now?” Cas asks, eyes tracing Dean’s face.

“I'm not sure,” Dean sighs, and a small bit of fear creeps into Dean’s scent.  

“What is it?  What's wrong?”  Cas shifts to see him better but Dean shakes his head, kissing Cas before rolling away and standing up.

“Not yet, please?  Let's get washed up?” Dean asks, the smile still there but the worry overshadowing it as he heads for the bathroom.  Cas doesn't argue because, yeah, they need to wash, but he feels his own unease returning. Cas heads into the hallway to grab a clean towel out of the linen closet for Dean, returning to the already steamy bathroom.  Dean's already in the shower, rivulets of water running over his freckled skin a brief distraction as Cas joins him. Dean looks over his shoulder, a shy smile on his face, and steps out of the way so Cas can get to the water.  He can still scent Dean’s worry, even over the scent of sex, and he isn't going to let it go. Not when this is all so new and fragile. Washing his stomach free of drying come, he turns and wraps Dean in his arms, pressing his chest to Dean's back.

“What's going on?” Cas asks again, pressing small kisses along the base of his neck.  Dean rests his arms on Cas’, leaning into his touch with a tired sigh.

“My family didn't exactly know I was leaving,” he admits, “and to be honest, I didn't expect to be gone so long.  But you,” he pauses, turning in Cas’ arms and wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist, “you make me crazy, Cas. You make me not want to go back.”  Cas reaches up, encouraging Dean to rest his head on Cas’ shoulder, tapping into his calming alpha pheromones while Dean’s nose brushes his neck.

“Would you believe I hardly ever smiled, not until you showed up here?”  Dean shakes his head against Cas’ shoulder and Cas grins. “I’m unable to relax enough to feel happy, usually.  I’m always so guarded around others.” His fingers trace a soothing pattern along Dean’s back, and Dean relaxes further into his arms.  “But here I am, grinning like an idiot, because I’m not afraid around you.”

“Fuck, has this chick flick really only been going on for 24 hours?” Dean laughs into Cas’ shoulder.

“Closer to 30, but yeah,” Cas laughs back.  Dean pulls away, meeting Cas’ eyes, and he can see Dean make up his mind.

“I’ve kept no secrets from you, Cas, none at all… except one.  And it's a secret that’s kinda… important.” He rests his forehead against Cas’, their noses bumping.  “I’ll trust you to keep it, if you let me.” Cas can smell the determination and the urgency in Dean’s scent, and he takes a deep breath.

“I don't have many secrets,” Cas points out, “and you already know the worst of my baggage.”  He brushes Dean’s lips with a couple gentle kisses. “If you want to trust me, I will do my best to earn it.”  Dean smiles, the scent of his relief washing over the both of them. 

“Thank you, Cas.  But… do you think,” he pauses, biting his lip.  “Do you think I could tell you tomorrow? I need some sleep to help build up to it.”  Dean’s words sound like a jest, but Cas can smell his subtle fear. He kisses Dean’s forehead, the warm water beating a soothing rhythm against his back.

“Of course, Dean."  They finish washing and climb out of the shower, drying off, trading shy glances and soft smiles.  Cas finds Dean a pair of pajamas that will fit him, changing the soiled sheets as Dean dresses. There's no denying it now; as he remakes the bed it's quite blatant it's a nest this time.  Dean smiles in amusement but lets Cas’ alpha instincts work without interference. 

When the bed's made to Cas' satisfaction, Dean crawls into the pile of blankets as Cas grabs their phones out of their discarded pants.

“Holy crap, it's almost 2:30,” Cas groans.  “The animals are getting a late breakfast.”

“They might be grumpy, but I think the reason is totally worth it,” Dean smirks.  Cas grins, the image of Dean snuggled into the nest he made making his chest glow with warmth.  

“Yeah, I guess it was.”  Cas crawls in next to Dean, who immediately wraps himself around Cas, nose brushing Cas’ neck as he breathes deep.  Cas already feels his eyelids drooping, Dean’s warmth lulling him to sleep.

“Did you mean what you said, earlier?  About wanting a mate and a family?” Dean asks, his voice timid like he's afraid of Cas’ answer.  Cas pulls Dean tighter, too tired to worry about the implications of the question. 

"I did."  Dean’s scent blossoms into the emotional equivalent of a fluffy blanket, and Cas slips off to sleep.

  
  


Cas is slow to wake up the next morning, cocooned in Dean's scent and warmth.  He's curled around Dean from behind, his knees tucked behind Dean’s and his chest pressed to his back.  The clock reads 6:25 am, so Cas decides they can sleep a little longer, pulling Dean closer and nosing down his neck.  In spite of the shower they'd taken their scents still overlap from the night before, something deep in Cas’ chest puffing up with approval.  

Dean stirs in his arms, making a soft noise as he snuggles into Cas’ embrace.  As Dean cuddles closer, Cas tries to keep his hips at a decent distance, his morning wood making itself known.  Last night was one thing, but Cas is in perfect control this morning, he doesn't want to press the sex issue while they have so much to talk about.

It seems Dean has other plans, rocking his hips backwards, a pleased hum rumbling through him as he brushes Cas’ cock.

“‘Bout time you woke up,” he sighs, voice rough with sleep.  

“Seems some of me was already awake,” Cas grumbles, and Dean chuckles, rolling his hips into Cas again.  “ _ Dean _ ,” Cas groans.

“What's wrong, Cas?” Dean teases, wiggling his hips flush against Cas’ hardness.  “Something making you uncomfortable?” Cas growls in response, rolling Dean on his back and pinning him into place with his hips.  Cas' lips capture Dean's in a hard kiss, Dean’s tongue hot and teasing and  _ fuck _ he's as hard as Cas is.

The ebb and flow of their scent- contentment, happiness, arousal- swirls around them, making Cas feel so alive.  It's like he's been drowning his whole life, and Dean has finally pulled him above the surface of the water. Only now that he's saved, Cas wants to drown again, this time in Dean.  

He kisses his way down Dean’s neck, pausing to lick the mark he left the night before which makes Dean huff a small laugh.  Cas grins and lets his lips and tongue continue their exploration down Dean's body. He pays close attention to Dean’s nipples, admiring the way Dean’s back arches, his breath punched out of him in gasps.  Cas throws the blanket back, exposing Dean's torso, Dean's chest heaving as he gives Cas a demure smile. Cas continues to kiss along Dean’s tummy, below his navel, along the small trail of hair leading below his waistband.  Dean’s scent is super concentrated here, and Cas nuzzles into the juncture of his hip and thigh, breathing deep. He sort of growls a bit, causing Dean's thighs to twitch, his morning wood standing straight in front of Cas' face.  Cas places an open mouthed kiss over the hard flesh trapped in cotton, and Dean bucks up into him. 

“ _ Cas _ , fuck,” Dean calls out into the room, and Cas grins.  His ability to make Dean come apart like this is making his alpha proud as he shimmies the pants off of Dean’s hips.  Cas licks thick wet strips from one end of Dean's cock to the other, Dean’s thighs twitching each time his tongue passes just below the tip.  He slips Dean between his lips, sucking him deep and humming at the taste that is so much like Dean’s scent. Dean’s fingers bury themselves in Cas’ hair, his every response driving Cas crazy.  Never before, with any other lover, did Cas get this lost in _ their _ pleasure, never before did he want  _ so bad _ to make his partner fall apart.  His lovers before were passing through, and he didn't want to take the time to put them back together.  He can feel Dean getting close, judging by the tenseness in his muscles and the urgency in his moans. Cas gathers some saliva on a finger, putting a gentle pressure against Dean’s entrance.

Dean comes hard down Cas’ throat, and Cas can't get enough, swallowing everything.  He’s pulled bodily up to where Dean can kiss him, something almost possessive in how Dean nips and bites at his lips.

“I thought I was the alpha,” Cas laughs, breaking away to admire Dean’s flushed and sweaty face.  Dean smirks, fingers tracing Cas’ jaw and his scent caressing Cas with affection.

“You are, gorgeous.  And the fact you did that for me… sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen.”  Cas is preening he's so pleased with himself and Dean must smell it because he laughs, melodic and beautiful.  He surges up, rolling Cas onto his back and crawling over him, kissing from his temple, down to the hollow of his neck, lapping at the sweat gathered there.  Cas’ cock brushes the hard line of Dean’s thigh, and Dean hums into Cas’ skin. “Let's get you to the shower and taken care of, what do you say, alpha?” Cas shivers, nodding, and Dean crawls out of bed, hurrying to the bathroom to get the water started in the shower.  Cas follows, molding himself to Dean’s body where he's bent to turn on the water.

“So fucking beautiful,” Cas sighs, nipping along Dean’s spine as they straighten up.  Dean bends his head, exposing his neck as Cas presses his nose to the space beneath Dean’s ear.  “ _ Fuck _ you smell so good,” Cas gasps.  

“Come on, get in,” Dean urges, and Cas releases him, climbing in the shower.  Dean waits a few moments before joining him, and when he does he has a towel in hand, folded into a small rectangle.  Cas’ cock twitches in interest, the musky scent of his arousal thickening in the air around them. Dean proceeds to set the towel on the floor of the bathtub, immediately kneeling in front of Cas, his grin wicked.  Cas runs his hand over Dean’s forehead and cheek, watching the beta lean forward to press kisses into Cas’ hips. Strong fingers run over the muscles in Cas' thighs, taking a firm grip before he draws his tongue along Cas’ length.  Cas groans and then Dean is drawing him between his lips with a beautiful suction. Cas braces himself against the wall of the shower to stay upright, his knees shaking at the sight Dean makes.

Watching Dean’s lips sliding over him, feeling his cock brushing the back of Dean’s throat, it's overwhelming.  Add Dean’s scent to it and once again Cas is coming undone at a rapid pace. As his knot grows, Dean’s hand wraps around it, covering the area his lips can no longer get to.  He looks up and locks eyes with Cas, his hand sliding over his knot, his lips pulling off the rest of him in a dark smirk.

“Come for me, alpha,” he demands, his voice rough from Cas’ cock.

Cas’ orgasm whites out the edge of his vision, looking down through the haze to see Dean’s face and chest covered in his release.  A surge of possessiveness comes out of nowhere, Cas growling and bodily pulling Dean to his feet. “Cas, wha—” Dean gasps in surprise, but Cas doesn't stop, can't stop.  His body has slipped out of his control, and all he can do is watch himself as he pins Dean against the wall of the shower. Cas takes hold of Dean's wrists, thrusting his knot into the juncture of Dean’s hip until an aftershock spills down Dean’s leg.  Cas’ head bends and he's nosing at Dean’s neck until Dean exposes it in submission. His alpha instinct sings in pleasure with how much of himself is in Dean’s scent.

“ _ Mine _ ,” Cas hums into Dean's neck, his voice deep and guttural.

“Yes, alpha, yours,” Dean gasps, his own voice raw and fucked out.  It's enough to satisfy Cas’ instincts, and he begins to regain control of himself.   He releases Dean's wrists and shies away from his as he slips out of the alpha headspace.  He'd lost control with Dean, like he knew he would, and his scent goes sour with remorse. This was exactly why he'd been hesitant the day before.

“Sorry, Dean, I'm sorry.”  Dean attempts to pull Cas back in, but Cas struggles.  

“Cas, hey, it's okay,” Dean insists.  He tugs a little harder but Cas refuses to budge, so Dean lets him go.  

“Sorry, I- I didn't mean to do that, it's… that's what I've been trying to warn you about.”  Cas turns away and reaches for the body wash, like he can wash this shame away, but Dean grabs his hand and stops him.

“Don't apologize."  Dean's voice is gentle, as he picks up the body wash himself.  “That was amazing, you went all primal and dominant and holy hell was it sexy.”  Cas flushes under the praise, even if he doesn't feel he deserves it. Dean reaches out and starts to rub the wash into Cas' skin, and Cas starts to relax under his touch.  

“It doesn't matter how hot it was," Cas points out.  "You're a person, you're not a secondary gender for me to possess like, like a  _ thing _ .”

“Hey,” Dean interrupts, “we’re okay, you handled it.  You didn't hurt me, sweetheart.” Cas takes a deep breath of Dean’s scent, nothing there to suggest he was anything but pleased with what happened.

“I'm kinda surprised it wasn't worse,” Cas admits.  “Something about you, you bring me right to the edge of losing control but know just what to do to keep me from going over.”  He turns to face Dean so Dean can wash his chest. “What is it about you?” The same worry that colored Dean’s scent the night before creeps in, enough to remind Cas Dean promised him a secret.

“I'm nothing special.”  Dean’s words are casual, but he washes himself with none of the measured calm he’d been showing to Cas.  Dean rinses off and moves so Cas can reach the spray.

“Well, I wouldn't call the best blowjob of my life ‘nothing special’."  Cas' attempt to lighten the mood is clumsy, but he feels like he succeeded when Dean blushes and smiles.  He gets a sense from Dean that he's building up his courage to tell Cas what's wrong, so for the moment, Cas decides to let it go.  

 

Dean scuttles downstairs in a borrowed pair of Cas’ underwear to get clothes from the guest room as Cas gets dressed upstairs.  Cas can hear the horses, and feels a little guilty for throwing the animals’ schedule off. Dean walks in the kitchen, brushing his hand across Cas' lower back with a soft smile, and Cas doesn't feel  _ too _ guilty.  After a quick breakfast, Cas gathers the things he needs for the chickens, leaving Dean to tend to the horses.  Dean had at least been around horses before, so he feels confident Dean can handle getting them out for the morning.

Cas heads to the front of the house, tending the chickens in record time, thankful they don't seem to notice he’s running late.  He's finishing with the eggs when the sound of a car approaching makes him look up. It isn’t the groan of Gabe’s truck, or the rumble of their closest neighbor’s SUV, and Cas climbs out of the coop to investigate.   He watches with growing curiosity as a brand new, black Dodge Charger pulls up the street, stopping in front of Cas’ house. Dean has pulled the Impala up into the driveway, so the stranger parks out front where the Impala was previously.  A man climbs out of the car, taller than Cas by a few inches, long waves of brown hair tucked behind his ears. He walks around the ditch to the end of the driveway, noticing Cas and moving towards him. His red plaid shirt and his jeans fit in with the rustic setting, even if the cleanliness of his car and his shoes don't.

The wind shifts and Cas gets a good strong whiff of  _ pissed off _ alpha, and immediately his hackles rise.  His body straightens and his shoulders pull back, squaring off his shoulders.  

“Can I help you?” Cas calls to the stranger, a subtle challenge in his voice.  The man’s scent, under the abrasive anger, is musky like all alphas, but there's something different about it.  It's enough to keep Cas from gagging on his scent.  _ Barely. _

“Where'd you get the car?!” the man snaps, stopping short of entering the driveway and jabbing a finger at the Impala.

“What's it to you?” Cas growls, bristling further.  

“Okay, here's the thing.  You're going to tell me where this car came from, or I'm going to-”  The breeze shifts direction, the stranger cutting off mid sentence as he staggers back a step, getting a nose full of potent, pissed off Cas.  The stranger surges forward, closing the distance between them in a few steps and grabs a fistful of Cas’ shirt. With a hard shove Cas falls hard onto his back, the air forced from Cas’ lungs as the man towers over him.  Before Cas can get a breath in, the stranger presses a foot a dangerous distance from his neck. The alpha's scent is beyond angry now, a mild fear there as well.

“What the hell did you do?!”  The man growls, putting every drop of alpha dominance in his voice.  Unfortunately for the stranger, Cas’ instincts are much stronger, the display far from intimidating.  Cas grabs the man’s leg, twisting as he pushes upward, sending the tall man sprawling. Cas gasps in air as he scrambles to stand, making it to his feet as soon as the other man does.  Cas taps into his deep alpha, into that primal need to dominate and dismiss this aggressive stranger. He can see when the other man senses the change, like Cas' scent is a physical wave that shoves him back.  A red haze starts to creep into his vision, and this one time Cas  _ lets _ it, to show the stranger he means business.

“I don't know who the  _ fuck _ you are, coming onto  _ my _ property and attacking me,” Cas rumbles.  “But you can go the fuck back to where you came from and mind your own goddamn business.”  The low growl that had started in Cas’ chest continues after he's spoken. The other man shrinks in response to Cas’ scent, the weaker alpha overwhelmed by Cas’ dominance.  Dean’s scent drifts down the breeze and Cas slips even more into the _ fight, protect, defend _ headspace, the tinge of red at the corner of his vision growing darker.

“Hey, I heard shout-  _ Sam _ ?!” Dean calls from behind Cas.  Cas instinctively stands between Dean and the stranger, his mind focused on  _ danger _ and not quite grasping Dean’s words.  

“Dean!” the stranger calls, his alpha scent calming a bit.  Dean tries to move past Cas, but Cas’ body moves of its own accord, cutting Dean off from the other alpha.

“Cas, what the- oh, shit.  Hey, Sam, give me a second.”

“Dean,”

“I said give me a second!  Go wait by your car, you both smell like you're going to kill each other.”  The man, Sam, sighs and walks away, and the farther he gets the more Cas’ inner alpha is happy with his success.  Sam stops at his car, leaning on the side, arms crossed in blatant disapproval, but defeated. Cas’ alpha doesn't care, it preens in victory.  Dean steps into Cas’ line of sight, running his hands over Cas’ face. “Hey, Cas, hey. Can you hear me?”

“ _ Dean _ ,” Cas hears his chest rumble.  He grabs hold of Dean, pushing him back a few steps into the trunk of the Impala, holding him close.  He buries his nose in Dean’s neck, mouth open and teeth brushing his skin.

“Easy, alpha, easy,” Dean gasps, and Cas breathes in Dean’s scent, the red starting to fade from around his vision.  “It's okay, I'm safe. It's Sam, my brother, Sam. Remember? I told you about him?” Dean’s using every bit of calming pheromones he has, and it finally starts to break through to Cas, the red disappearing completely.  Cas removes his teeth from proximity to Dean’s neck, stepping back and taking deep measured breaths. Embarrassment replaces his aggression, and Cas bows his head.

“Sorry, I'm sorry,” Cas sighs, dropping his head against Dean’s chest.  “He, he must have smelled you on me, he came after me and I just-”

“It's okay, hey, look at me.”  Cas opens eyes he doesn't remember closing, lifting up his head.  Dean smiles and brushes his cheek. “I'll take care of Sam, alright?  Are you sure you're okay?” Cas nods, and Dean leans in, kissing him in a hot surge of affection.  Cas resists for a moment but it's what he needs right now, so in spite of the alpha irritation he's getting from Sam downwind, he lets Dean kiss him.  He’s slipped completely out of his alpha headspace by the time Dean pulls away with a reassuring smile. “Better?”

“Thank you,” Cas breaths, and Dean nods before turning to face Sam.  

Dean’s scent immediately changes, his sweet scent turning sour as he approaches his brother, his shoulders set in an angry line.  When Sam stands to greet his brother, Dean startles them both by punching Sam in the face. Cas feels a surge of pride on Dean’s behalf but keeps it from showing as he steps closer to the brothers.

“Dean, what the hell?!” Sam snaps, holding a hand to his cheek

“I could ask you the same thing!  Since when do you walk up to a guy you don't know and start a fight?!”

“Since he smelled like you and you've been missing for two days!” Sam shouts back, dropping his hand from his face.  “He's an alpha, what was I supposed to think?” Cas can smell Dean’s guilt, as well as Sam’s worry, and now that he's calmer, the familiar scent that marks Sam as Dean’s brother.

“You could assume I can take care of myself!” Dean grumbles, anger still rolling off of him.

“I know, okay, I'm sorry,” Sam sighs.  “Did you really have to punch me, jerk?”

“Course I did, bitch, you deserve it,” Dean huffs.  Both brothers half smile and the tension seems to break, the anger leaving their scents.  Cas takes a couple more cautious steps forward, completely baffled by the whole exchange. “How did you find me, anyway?” Dean asks. 

“Called in a favor with Jody,” Sam shrugs.  Dean takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, and Cas can smell the same worry and fear on Dean he's been feeling since last night.

“Does anyone else know?”

“No, just me and Jody.  The local cop doesn't know who the car belongs to, just about the BOLO.”

“You put a BOLO out on Baby?” Dean snaps.

“I had to find you!  Dean, Dad is  _ beyond _ livid, you've got everyone in a tizzy-”

“Yeah?  Well, serves them all right.”

“This isn't funny.”

“I know."  Dean drops his head, his shoulders slumping.  “But Sam, I had to get out of there, at least for a day or two.  And then I...” Dean looks over his shoulder at Cas, and waves him forward.  “I kind of stumbled on something while I was out here.” Cas holds his head up high as he walks up to Dean, and this time Sam turns his gaze down, submitting with respect before looking back up at his brother.

“I see that.”

“This is Castiel.  Cas, this is my baby brother, Sam.”  Sam offers his hand, grumbling something about  _ not a baby _ and Cas shakes it.

“Hello, Sam.  My apologies for the display.”

“It's fine, Castiel.  I did swing first,” Sam smiles at him, a cautious optimism in his scent.

“That doesn't excuse my overreacting,” Cas insists. 

“It's okay, honest… Cas, Dean said?” Sam tries the nickname and Cas nods.  “But can you blame me?” Sam’s voice is apologetic, and Cas frowns at the sudden burst of anxiety from Dean next to him, not helping his confusion.

“Um, I'd say you're a bit overprotective, but it could partly be me as well,” Cas admits.  Sam’s eyes widen and he stares at Dean.

“Wait,” Sam takes a deep breath through his nose, his eyes widening comically.  “ _ You haven't told him _ ?!” he hisses.

“I was about to, actually, until you showed up and threw a wrench in that plan,” Dean grumbles, embarrassed and nervous.  Cas looks between the brothers, breathing through his mouth as their scents shift in a silent conversation.

“Tell me what?” he asks.  Dean runs a hand across the back of his neck, turning to face Cas with nervous tension in his face.

“This doesn't change anything,” Dean insists.  “Everything I've done, everything I've said the past two days… none of it changes.”

“Tell me what?” Cas repeats.  

“Maybe we should go inside?” Sam suggests.  Cas ignores him.

“Dean, please,” Cas insists.  “You promised last night.” Dean’s face clouds over with guilt.

“Cas, I'm… I'm not a beta.”  Cas almost laughs because he  _ definitely _ isn't an alpha-

Oh.

_ Oh. _

__


	5. Family Matters

No no no, this isn't happening.  

This  _ can't _ be happening.

That is just downright impossible.

“Cas?” Dean calls, but Cas can't focus in on his voice.

“I- I don't...” Cas sways on his feet, and Dean reaches out to catch him.  Cas lets Dean support most of his weight, his scent flooding with concern that wraps around Cas.

“A hand, Sam?” Dean gasps, and Sam moves in to help carry Cas up to the house, easing him down on the couch once they’re inside.  Sam backs up to give Cas some space, and Dean kneels in front of him, hands running restlessly up and down Cas’ thighs. “Cas? Talk to me, please.”  Dean’s scent worried and pleading.

The odds that Dean would happen upon Castiel’s house, and happen to need help with his car, are astronomical.  It has to be a cruel joke the universe is playing on Cas. Dean's the first person whose scent he enjoyed, the first person he can sleep with without constant worry or restraint about his haze.  He's also the one person he can never have. 

Because omegas are only born to one bloodline: the Chancellorship.  They only mate with special alphas, strong alphas that will help them run the government.  Not broken, half functioning alphas like Cas. It has to be one big cosmic joke at Cas’ expense.

“An omega?” Cas confirms.  Dean nods, and Cas shakes his head, his own confusion and dismay bleeding into his scent.  “But, that's not possible. You can't be.”

“Much to my constant annoyance, I am."  

“But, but that means you’re- you’re...“

“Related to the Chancellor?  Yeah, I am. Good old Grandpa Samuel.”  Dean’s scent clouds over with regret. “Cas, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but it never came up, and... I was afraid.”

“You should be afraid!” Cas gasps, standing and pulling away from Dean.  “You know what could have happened… if I had gone into a blackout, Dean, what I could have  _ done _ -”   _ Fuck _ , if Cas had lost control and knotted Dean, if he had bitten down a bit harder…  _ fuck _ .  He didn’t like to think what that might have meant for him, the consequences he’d have faced.

“But I knew you wouldn't!” Dean's stands up but gives Cas some space so he has a chance to sort through the myriad of scents swirling in the room.  Of course, even after two days Dean already knows what Cas needs, when he needs it. 

“ _ How _ did you know I wouldn't?  Because I sure as hell didn't know!” Cas snaps, fear making his head spin.  Dean takes a step closer, hands up and open, and Cas’ every instinct is to walk into his arms and take the comfort he's offering.  Instead he crosses his arms over his chest, feeling scent-sick and ashamed.

“I knew Cas,” Dean continues, dropping his hands to his sides.  “I knew because I could smell it, I could _ feel _ it.  Safe, protected, _ home _ .  I have never felt that around any alpha before in my life.  Not even Sam.” A sudden epiphany strikes Cas, Charlie’s phone calls about the road blocks coming back to him.  A member of the Chancellor’s family on the run would be a political refugee, and his omega status would be why they hadn't broadcast a picture.

“You're the reason for all the traffic blocks!” Cas blurts.  “You're the person the cops have been chasing.” 

“They're overreacting.”  

“Yes, but you're technically not supposed to leave Central,” Sam points out.  Cas almost forgot Sam was there, his scent worried but also a bit amused, muted in relation to his and Dean’s instinct heightened scents.  “Stealing the fare for the SpeedRail from my account isn’t exactly fair play either.” 

“According to  _ tradition _ , not law, I'm supposed to stay there,” Dean snaps back. 

“And you're not even on your blockers, are you?” Sam asks.  Dean shakes his head slowly, and Cas realizes that's why Dean’s scent kept growing stronger.  “Dean, that's  _ beyond _ dangerous-”

“I'm a  _ person _ , not only an omega, I’m not some fragile little puppet for them to mold how they want me.”  The underlying anger in Dean’s scent makes Cas wince. 

“You use scent blockers too?” Cas asks, trying to change the topic away from whatever is making Dean angry.  Dean nods, a guilty smile making its way to his face. 

“To protect my identity, yeah.  And because all omegas are hyperosmiacs, it's part of our given genetics.”  Cas realizes that's why Dean's so understanding, so sympathetic to how Cas is feeling and reacting.  Dean’s scent is heavy with guilt as he drops his eyes. “Cas, I’m sorry. I never should have lied to you.”  Cas walks over to Dean in a few slow steps, reaching his hand out and touching his shoulder. Dean reaches up, his fingers wrapping around Cas' forearm in a loose grip.  It’s a simple acceptance of the apology, warm tendrils seep through Cas’ skin from Dean's touch and back again. While Cas may not understand why it's happening, both he and Dean calm down enough that their scents resume some semblance of normal.

“Dean, did… did that just happen?” Sam asks, sounding almost awestruck.  Dean nods, a puff of happiness coming from him, and Cas can't help its effect on him.  He's pleased on an instinctual level that he calmed his omega. 

_ His _ omega.

_ Oh, shit. _

Everything he's been feeling and experiencing the past couple days makes so much more sense, now.  His willingness to help Dean, the nesting, even the way Dean trusted him. Cas keeps a firm grip on his embarrassment when he also realizes that  _ slick _ must have been the reason Dean was so quick to shower each time they’d had sex.  He focuses back in on what Dean's saying to his brother and not intimate memories from that morning.

“This is  _ real _ , Sammy, I know it is,” Dean's voice is soft but urgent, his hand falling to grip Cas’ hip.  “More than biology, more than any of that stupid instinctual crap.”

“Though I'm sure that helps,” Sam points out with a snort.  They're still for a brief moment, eyes locked in silent conversation, until Sam blinks and looks away.  Dean's cheeks flush but his grin is cocky, and Sam scrubs a hand over his face with the air of someone who knows he's lost.  A single look between brothers seems to explain everything that needs explaining. “Dad's going to have a fucking fit, you know that right?” Sam sighs, his half laugh not quite hiding his worry.  Cas feels a brief twinge of guilt for not only missing work but also for not having seen Michael recently. Seeing Sam and Dean's sibling relationship makes Cas miss what he and Michael used to have.  

“Dad can kiss my ass,” Dean grumbles.  His voice sounds confident but Cas can smell the unease below the surface.  “There’s no way in hell I’m mating any of those assholes he’s been shoving at me.”

“I know, Dean.  You know I have your back.”  Sam looked over at Cas, an apology in his eyes and scent.  “Before I, well, spazzed out on you, I could smell Dean on you.  Now that I'm calm, the way your scents smell together… it makes sense.”  He rubs the back of his neck, half smiling at Cas. “I really am sorry for chucking you in the dirt, but having an omega for a brother isn't easy.”

“I'm a joy to be around,” Dean scoffs.

“I understand now, Sam,” Cas says with a half smile, nudging Dean.  “I'm sorry as well, for going off on you out there, but when my alpha instinct gets tapped, it's not pretty.”  

“I noticed, I'd never seen or smelled anything like that before.”  Cas hears the curiosity in Sam’s voice, and he senses in the subtle tightening of the hand on his waist Dean wants to change the topic.  Cas shakes his head, if Sam is Dean’s brother, he deserves to know.

“I have hyperosmia as well,” he states, happy it comes out strong and matter of fact.  Sam's eyes go wide and he nods.

“No need to explain, it all makes perfect sense,” Sam insists.  He opens his arms in a shrug. “So, what do we do now?” Sam’s question goes unanswered, until the crunch of tires on the driveway out front made all three of them freeze in place.  The two brothers bristle with anxiety, and Cas feels his stomach sink. 

“Fuck me,” Cas sighs.  Dean and Sam both turn their heads to stare at him.  “It's Thursday. My cousin is home.” Cas takes a deep breath, bracing himself and walking to the door, leaving the worried brothers behind him.  He steps outside and climbs down the porch steps, walking up to Gabe’s truck as his cousin climbs out.

“Never thought I'd need a  _ no parties _ rule with you.”  Gabe nods at the Impala and the Charger with a raised eyebrow.

“Gabe, just, let me explain, okay?”  His cousin frowns, peering at Cas through squinted eyes.

“You smell… different.  Like, not bad different, but confusing different.”

“I can imagine,” Cas sighs.

“Sorry, by the way, about the blockers.”  Gabe’s scent carries his honest remorse. “Might have pulled that as a prank before, but I swear I didn't mean to this time.”

“Gabe, it's fine,” Cas dismisses his apology with a wave.

“Wait… why aren't you more grumpy?” Gabe frowns.  “You've been without them for three days, usually you're a lot worse than this.”

“I can explain, but could we go inside?  Please?” Gabe’s glare is suspicious, but he nods.  Turning, he grabs his bag from the truck, leaving his purchases loaded in the back for the time being.  Cas leads the way to the house with nerves buzzing all through his skin. The moment Gabriel steps inside, tension skyrockets in the room, everyone's scent spiking and Cas gags.  

“Cas, you okay?”   Dean moves to his side to rub his back, tension in the corners of his eyes showing he wasn't unaffected either. 

“The three of you need to chill out, I can’t breathe.”  He gestures back at Gabriel. “This is my cousin, this is his house.”  Dean’s scent changes almost immediately, soothing in response to Cas’ distress.  

“Sorry we overwhelmed your super nose,” Gabe sighs, his scent quick to return to normal.  “I'm Gabriel, by the way,” he adds, waving jovially at Sam and Dean. “Hello strangers in my house.”

“I'm Sam,” Sam walks over to shake Gabe’s hand.  “This is my brother, Dean.”

“Pleasure.”  Gabe smiles up at Sam.  “And how do you know my dear Castiel?” he asks, setting his bag down next to the couch.

“My car broke down,” Dean explains.  “I uh, got a little lost, and Cas was kind enough to help me.”

“Well, that's our Cassie,” Gabe chuckles.  Gabe looks between Cas and Dean for a moment, his eyes tracing the movement of Dean’s hand where it’s still rubbing Cas’ back.  “So, wait, I'm missing something. You've only known him for...?”

“Two days,” Cas mumbles with a blush.

"Cas bristles being around me, and I’m supposed to accept he’s this okay with some random stranger?"  Gabe squints at Dean.

"Well, I mean, we're not, uh..."

“Uh huh… and this whole happy, content vibe…"

“Almost like honeymooners?” Sam chuckles.  Dean glares at Sam, who shrugs. “What?" Gabe’s eyes bounce between the three of them, and he crosses his arms over his chest.  

“Okay, spill, what is happening?” he asks, giving Cas a pointed look.

“I'm an omega,” Dean blurts before Cas can craft an explanation.  Cas turns to stare open mouthed at Dean. “What?” Dean's lips drop in a slight pout.  “Like a band aid, say it before it becomes a thing.”

“An omega?” Gabe repeats, and then proceeds to double over in laughter.  Cas can smell Dean’s confusion, it matches his own, but Sam's amused by the whole thing, and Gabriel is…  _ excited _ .  That's a scary thought.

“Gabe, please...”

“Holy shit, Cas, you've really stepped in it this time,” Gabe gasps, standing upright and shaking his head.  There's nothing but honest approval in Gabe’s tone and scent, so at least he's not angry with him. Cas flushes as his embarrassment mingles with a little touch of pride.

“I noticed."  

“And for obvious reasons, we need to keep this quiet,” Sam adds.  Gabe grins up at Sam.

“Copy that, mister over-tall alpha.  Don’t tell anyone a member of the royal family is chilling in my living room and banging my cousin.”  

“We’re not  _ royals _ !”

“I’m not  _ banging _ him!”  Cas and Dean look at each other, sharing bashful smiles as Gabe barks out a loud laugh.  Cas’ phone starts ringing from upstairs and Cas leaves the group, hurrying upstairs to his room.  He catches his phone right before it goes to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“You planning on working today?”  Charlie. Cas groans, dropping onto the edge of his bed and scrubbing a hand over his face.  He'd totally forgotten about work.

“I've been busy,” Cas grumbles.

“Trouble with the animals?”

“Not the animals, no.”

“So not the animals, but a good enough reason to be almost two hours late...”  

"Has anyone else noticed?"

"No, I think Dick spends most of his time trying to forget you exist." 

"Okay," Cas sags a little in relief.  The sound of someone speaking downstairs reminds Cas he still has one hell of a shitstorm to deal with.

“Charlie, I'm sorry, I know I owe you an explanation but I've got to go right now, okay?”

“Okay, Cas.”  Some of the jest leaves her voice, Charlie sensing his mood even over the phone.  “Are we at least still on for tonight?”

“ _ Fuck _ .”  Cas feels the added pressure like a physical weight on his shoulders.  “I'm sorry, Charlie, I totally forgot.”

“Cas, you okay?  You sound weird.”  

“Yeah, I'm fine, I… it's been a hell of a morning,” he mutters.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice carries from down the hall.

“A hell of a morning, huh?” Charlie repeats, and Cas can tell from the tone of her voice she heard Dean.

“Charlie, I'll explain...”

“Oh, yeah, you're explaining,” she insists, her voice stern.   Her curiosity is piqued, and there's going to be no stopping her the next time they talk.  “I'll be by after work!” She hangs up before Cas can get another word in. He drops his phone, burying his face in his hands and taking a deep breath that shakes on its way out. 

_ Why is this my life?   _

The very real, very serious situation smacks into him, and Cas feels a shiver of fear run up his spine.  Dean's convinced Sam not to freak out about starting something with Cas, but convincing the Chancellor won't be anywhere near as easy.  How does Cas justify to Samuel that his grandson, and heir if Dean's the only other omega, should mate _ him _ ?  What he and Dean feel isn't going to matter to Chancellor Samuel, Cas isn't the type of alpha for the job.  Cas know that the realistic outcome holds no future for them.

A very real pain settles in his chest, and Cas decides that whomever said “tis better to have loved and lost than to not love at all” needs to go fuck themselves.

“Cas?” Dean is standing in his doorway now, his face screwed up in concern from the pain Cas is projecting in scent.  

"Dean, sorry, work call."  He can't meet Dean's eyes, but Dean's scent shifts when he figures out what's making Cas so upset.

“Cas, I’m so sorry.”  Cas feels his instinctual need to comfort Dean, a demand that he fix it, but he can’t even do that.  “I didn't mean to turn your life upside down.” Dean’s voice is strained and his scent is no better, reacting to Cas’ pain. 

“I know,” Cas sighs.  “But we can't do this, Dean.  You have responsibilities and a future ahead of you and I'm- I’m an accountant with an over sensitive nose.”  Hurt spikes in Dean’s scent like a physical smack in Cas’ face.

“So what?  Cas, my family doesn't define me, and my gender sure as hell doesn’t, just like your condition doesn’t define you.”  Dean comes forward to kneel on the floor in front of Cas. “I would rather sit here with you on this tiny little farm in the back ass end of nowhere then spend another  _ minute _ back in Lebanon.”  

“I'm not enough, and even if I was… You're gonna be the  _ Chancellor  _ Dean, I can't—”

“Stop it, right now,” Dean demands in a growl, a razor sharp assertiveness in his tone and scent.  Without hesitation, Cas turns his head to expose his neck, submitting to Dean on pure instinct. He's never felt that reflexive urge before, always being the strongest presence in a room, but it seems so natural to submit to Dean.  It seemed so right. Dean leans forward, nosing up the line of Cas’ neck, his puff of breath unhappy at whatever he finds there. “Cas, you're more than enough for me. And if I have to spend every damn minute of every damn day convincing you otherwise, I will.”  He punctuates his statement with a nip against Cas’ collarbone, and finally Cas stops fighting. He stops fighting the biology drawing them together. He stops fighting the emotional connection they've already built. He wraps his arms around Dean in a loose hold and presses his own nose into Dean’s neck.

“I'm scared, Dean.  This is so much so fast.”

“I know, Cas, I know.”  Dean’s hands slide over his back in soothing sweeps, the movement mixing with the pheromones calming Cas down.  “Later tonight, before bed, we’ll talk it through, okay?” He presses a soft kiss to Cas’ cheek. 

“Okay.”

Dean allows them ten more minutes to sit in the quiet together before urging Cas up off his bed, taking him by the hand and leading him back downstairs.  Sam and Gabe are sitting next to each other on the couch talking in hushed tones, both of them falling silent when Cas and Dean come into view.

“So Sam here caught me up on the basics,” Gabe says, raising an eyebrow at Cas.  “But I’d like to hear your side of this.” Cas sinks into a chair, and with a lack of more furniture, Dean sits on the floor in front of him.  His warm weight is comforting against Cas’ legs, and he relaxes back in his chair.

“I don't know what there is to explain,” Cas sighs.  “I… felt something, the moment I met Dean.” Cas pauses, leveling a glare at Gabriel’s raised eyebrow.  “Something  _ more _ than physical,” he adds, and Gabe’s smirk fades into a pout.

“Didn't even let me get my dirty innuendo out,” he huffs.  Sam snorts a small laugh. “Shut up, you big moose.”

“Let him speak,” Sam insists.  Gabe crosses his arms but turns back to Cas.

“I kind of… told him everything-about Mom, about Dad leaving.”

“Same thing on my end, Sammy.”  Dean glances up at Cas before looking over at Sam.  “Told him about how Dad treats us, talked about losing mom.  And yeah, there’s some shit about the family drama he doesn’t know yet, but hell, we even talked about pups.”

“You guys haven't...?” Gabe says, his scent making the quick shift into anxious, and both Cas and Dean shake their heads.  Gabe sighs in relief. “Okay, sorry if I'm out of the loop. Can't smell as good as you weirdos.” Cas feels Dean tense in offense and he drops his hand to brush along the back of Dean’s neck.

“Cas’ condition isn't a joke,” Dean growls anyway, even as he let Cas’ touch calm him.

“You'll have to forgive Gabe, he's rude and insensitive, but there's not a mean bone in his body,” Cas huffs.  Gabe scoffs in mock offense and Dean relaxes.

“So, what do you want to do?” Sam asks, cutting straight to the point.  Aside from when he arrived, Sam’s scent has been the steadiest in the room, hardly swinging one way or the other.  Cas wonders if it's from growing up with Dean, if Sam had practiced keeping his scent neutral for his brother’s benefit.  “You can't hide here forever, eventually Dad and the police will come looking for you, even way out here in the boonies. Not to mention the whole ‘heir’ thing.” 

“I know that, Sam.”  Dean sighs, worry thick in his scent.  “If I bring Cas with me now, Dad will turn around and have him shipped off to prison for kidnapping or some other bullshit.”  A flash of anger creeps into Cas’ chest, and judging by the way Dean’s nostrils flare, out into the room as well.

“Like I'd fucking let him pull that shit."  Sam's laugh that time is dark, his own anger matching Cas’.  “No way.” Dean beams at his brother with a proud affection, but Gabe’s confused scent draws Cas’ attention.

“Your dad would really do that?” Gabe asks.  

“Or worse,” Dean scowls.  “And it’s not like anyone else in Lebanon will object either, since, you know, I'm not my own person.”  Cas can taste Dean’s fear in the air, and it sparks a defensive fire in his gut. There is  _ no way _ Cas would let that happen either.  Dean must scent it because he turns to look at Cas over his shoulder, the tiniest smile on his face.

“How long until your father finds us?” Cas asks.

“Don't know,” Sam sighs heavily.  “I covered my tracks, as did Jody, but nothing is foolproof.”

“Who is-” Cas starts.

“Jody is a cop,” Sam explains.  “Sheriff actually, up by where we live.  She's a good person, strong alpha, she won't crack under my dad.”  Sam runs his fingers through his hair. “Her underlings are a whole other story.  We were very discreet, but you never know.” 

“Sam has a good relationship with Jody, if he says we can trust her, we can trust her.”  Dean grins at his brother. “Sammy is also technically my head of security,” Dean explains.  “Got there by merit, which is kinda awesome.” Sam blushes a bit, but rolls his eyes at his brother. 

“Not what you said while I was passing my tests.  ‘Too scrawny and lanky, Sammy, you’re getting knocked out in the first round!’”  Sam lowers his voice to mock Dean’s, bringing a smile to Cas’ face.

“What?  It was motivation!” Dean insists.

“Well, you guys are free to use my home, for as long as you need to,” Gabe interrupts.  “But you're buying your own food, and you can help with the chores while you're at it.”

“Even if they want to charge you as an accessory to kidnapping?” Cas asks, to check on his cousin’s gumption.  The mood sobers immediately, and Gabe pauses only a moment before nodding with firm confidence.

“If you're serious about him, Cas, then yes.  You've been through enough shit, you deserve something good.”  Gabe claps his hands together and pushes himself off the couch.  “Okay, I'm going to go unpack my truck and check on the girls. See you in a bit for lunch.”  Gabe waves as he turns and walks back out the front door, Sam chuckling at his retreating back.

“Is he always like that?”  

“He needs a little time to process this.  Usually he's worse,” Cas rolls his eyes. “To be honest, he was probably so tame because of the company.”   _ Company _ .  “Speaking of, I had plans with a friend today, and I don't think she'll take no for an answer.”  Dean shifts against Cas’ legs, turning to look up at him.

“A friend?” he asks, and Cas grins when he catches the tiniest bit of jealousy in Dean’s scent.

“My best friend.  We can trust her,” Cas assures the brothers before they can object.  “You'll need her approval to be with me, anyway, so stow the jealousy.”  Sam laughs out loud as Dean blushes.

“Shut up, Sam.”

“Sorry, but if he can scent you that well, you're going to have one hell of a time with him,” Sam says with gleeful delight.

“What does he mean?” Cas asks curiously.  Dean shoots a glare at his brother, but Sam doesn’t heed the warning and presses on.

“Dean is the king of suppressing his feelings.  I've learned to read his facial ticks when I can't scent him, but no one else can see through him when he’s trying to hide something.”  For some reason Dean’s scent darkens into shame at Sam’s words, something it's obvious Sam is oblivious to. Cas nudges Dean forward with his legs, sliding down off the chair to drop behind Dean on the floor.

“Cas, wha-?” Dean’s question cuts off as Cas pulls Dean close, wrapping his arms around him from behind.  He has him caged in with his legs, completely surrounding Dean in body and scent. He lets his calm ease Dean’s tension, and keeps the teasing up for Sam’s benefit.

“Guess I'll have to stay close, make sure Dean doesn't pull anything on me.”  Cas hopes his scent conveys the meaning behind his words.  _  Don't worry, I’m here, I’ve got you _ .  Cas doesn’t relax his grip until Dean’s scent loses its bitter overtone.

“So, this has been very embarrassing.  I'm going to raid your kitchen and put lunch together,” Dean grumbles, though there was nothing angry in his scent.  He puts on a show of ‘breaking free’, and when Cas releases him, Dean plants a kiss on his forehead before standing and walking to the kitchen.  Cas gets up from the floor, walking over to the couch to drop down next to Sam.

“Wow… you know, I never put much stock into soulmates before, but you two are making me rethink that.”  Sam’s tone is thoughtful, a soft smile on his face.

“Soulmates?” Cas asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah, you know, people whose scents and personalities are so compatible they can’t not be together,” Sam explains.  “A lot of people think soulmates are destined to find each other, no matter what.” Cas squints in confusion. 

“So, like, it was fate that your brother and I would find each other?”

“Exactly!  I mean, how else do you explain it, that your house is the one Dean happens to wind up at?  That you felt comfortable enough to let him in?” Cas feels his cheeks flush.

“Sam, I can't deny the magnetism between me and your brother, but soulmates?”

“I know, it sounds crazy,” Sam shrugs, “but the two of you have convinced me.  You're…  _ too _ perfect.”  Sam’s scent is genuinely happy for them, even if the underlying concern for the immediate future is still there.  Cas' alpha display hasn't tarnished Sam’s opinion of him, and he’s relieved that Dean and his brother have the strong relationship they do.  Cas and Michael are close, but the utter devotion Cas can see between Dean and Sam is something on a whole new level.

Speaking of his brother, he still hasn't signed in to work, and he’s going on four hours late.

“I'm going to try and get some work done, it’ll help me wrap my head around all this.”

“Need help?” Sam asks, pushing himself to his feet at the same time Cas does.

“Oh, thanks, but no.  I'm an accountant, I work from home for my brother’s company,” Cas explains, leading Sam down the hallway to the office.  

“Working from home is good, must help with your...”  Sam trails off, but it's a kind of awkward Cas has experience dealing with.

“It does,” Cas agrees, starting up the computer.  Sam looks around, eyes drifting over Cas’ belongings before moving to the window to glance outside at the paddock.  

“Did Dean tell you we used to ride when we were kids?”

“He did.”  Cas glances up as Sam’s melancholy spreads into the room.  “He sounds like he misses it.” 

“There's a lot that he misses,” Sam says softly, his tone matching his scent.  “I wasn't surprised to find him out here, to be honest, it's similar enough to where we grew up.  Well, with a hell of a lot more swamp,” Sam chuckles, “but it’s far enough away to help him feel free.”  Cas pulled his notebooks closer, Sam’s alpha regret turning the air between them sour

“I would like nothing more than for Dean to stay here,” Cas admits, and judging by the look on Sam’s face he'd hit on exactly what Sam was thinking.  “But I think we both know that’s just not possible.”

“We’ll figure something out, Cas,” Sam assures him.  His voice is so full of hopeful conviction, Cas almost believes it.


	6. What I Need

Cas gets to work, losing himself in numbers and invoices to avoid thinking about anything else.  Dean and Sam got outside to help Gabe with unloading his new purchases. Cas can hear them talking through the window, faint chatter about how Gabe keeps the farm afloat financially.  Cas’ income helps, but it isn't easy, sometimes he and Gabe come up just shy of breaking even. During those thin months they resort to using candles and old gas lamps for light, and limit their number of hot showers.  In the summers the air conditioner gets left off to lower the power bill, the cold showers actually welcome on those days. The months they do well, they put as much money away as possible, upgrading what they can while they have the funds.  Cas can hear the pride in Gabe’s voice as he talks to the brothers about their little farm.

_ Their _ farm.  Cas swallows hard against the unexpected lump in his throat.  For all the complaining he does about Gabe, this farm has become his first, real home.

And then Dean stepped into his life three days ago, reminding Cas the world is a lot bigger than a handful of acres in the middle of nowhere.  Even if he tries to ignore it doesn’t mean the world stops turning. Cas isn't sure what to do about Dean being in his life, but he doesn't know if he can go on  _ without _ Dean in it.  He doesn't want to leave, but there's no way Dean, the heir to the Chancellorship, can stay.  No matter what happens there’s only one outcome for this situation: Dean’s going to leave. Now it comes down to whether or not Cas can follow.

The front door opens and closes, and Cas doesn’t need to turn around to know who’s walking into the office behind him.

“How’s work?”  Dean smells so content, and even covered in the smell of sweat and dirt, it's beautiful.  It's like a knife in Cas' chest, and he puts down the notebook he's holding, trying to suppress his sadness.  Dean’s omega warmth spreads into the room, wrapping Cas up in its embrace before Dean’s equally warm arms slide around his neck.  His hands splay out over Cas’ chest as he nuzzles the top of Cas’ head. “What’s wrong, Cas?” He should know better than to try and hide anything from Dean, but old habits and all.  Cas doesn't even know where to begin, so he pulls away, spinning the office chair around to pressing his face into Dean’s stomach. His arms wrap tight around Dean’s waist and before he can stop it, a small whimper escapes him.

“ _ Dean _ .”  He's not ready yet, not ready to put into actual words what's scaring him, afraid that once they're spoken they’ll happen right in that moment.  Dean’s left arm slides around Cas’ shoulders, his right hand a gentle weight in his hair.

“Hey, hey, I got you,” Dean soothes.  “Easy, alpha.” He can smell the worry on Dean, but even that worry is wrapped in something soothing, a sweet comfort that Cas drinks in until he's able to breathe again.  He looks up at Dean with a half smile, pressing a soft kiss against his shirt.

“Hello, Dean,” he hums, and Dean smiles and shakes his head.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean answers.  He runs his fingers across Cas’ forehead, smoothing out any remaining lines he found there.  “I don't care how cute you are, we will be talking about this later.” He bends and kisses Cas, a brief pressure on his lips, pulling back with a slow smirk.  “But not when your cousin and my brother are listening in,” he adds.

“I am offended at the implication,” Gabe calls from behind Dean, and the heavier footsteps retreating down the hallway have to be Sam’s.  Cas blushes, he'd been so wrapped up in his head he hadn't scented Gabe’s arrival. “I was simply coming to ask what you'd like for dinner.  Trust me, I do not need to see you macking on my cousin.”

“Whatever you make will be fine.”  Cas turns back to his desk to tidy up his work.  “Remember, Charlie is coming over,” Cas calls to Gabe's retreating back.

“So double the food order, got it.”  Cas shuts down the computers, giving up on getting any more actual work done and follows an amused Dean back out into the living room.

“Anything I should know about this Charlie?” Dean asks, the slightest bit of nerves starting to show through his facade.  Cas thinks for a moment, finding words to describe Charlie is… a challenge.

“She's a beta, very nerdy, irreverent.  You’ll probably get along right away. Oh, and she's very political, so expect her to get all up in your business when she finds out who you are.”

“Brace myself for ranting and raving against the family business.  Got it.” Dean leans in and presses a kiss into Cas’ cheek before dropping down on the couch next to Sam and snatching the TV remote out of his hand.

“Dude, this isn't even your house,” Sam scoffs, attempting to grab the remote back.

“More mine than yours,” Dean says with a smug grin, holding it out of Sam’s reach as he flips channels.  Cas can tell the display is hiding Dean’s nerves from his brother, but it’s equally obvious Sam isn’t buying it.  Cas smiles at the warmth in his chest, making his way to the kitchen to find Gabe chopping vegetables

“One weird veggie lasagna for you and the moose.  One meaty awesome lasagna for the rest of us,” Gabe explains, gesturing at the greased baking pans on the counter.

“The moose?”

“Sam,” Gabe laughs.  “He's tall and awkward, and from what I hear you don't want to piss him off.”  

“He told you, huh?” Cas sighs, rubbing his neck.  

“Yeah, he did.  I guess it was a good first impression, though, so he wasn't too upset.”  Gabe's scent is amused, and he smirking as he works at layering pasta into the baking pans.

“I almost beat the shit out of him,” Cas points out, “how the hell is that a good impression?”

“He knows how hard you’ll fight to protect his brother.”  Gabe’s answer is simple and thoughtful for him, and Cas shakes his head as Gabe continues working.  “I mean, isn’t that the whole ancient alpha 'thing'? Protecting the omegas?”

“You’ve been reading too many romance novels if you think I'm going to woo Dean with powerful displays of alpha-ness."  Cas drops into a chair, watching Gabe work to fill the baking dishes. “I don't know what's happening to me, Gabe. I'm not usually like this, even with my condition.  But I'm... it's like I'm out of control but also the most awake I've ever been.”

“Cassie,” Gabe soothes, dropping the ground beef into the pan to cook for the meat lasagna, “I don't see why it's a bad thing.”

“Because now I have something that can be taken away,” he breathes, something turning cold in his gut.  Gabe pauses, glancing up at Cas as the doorbell rings. 

“Go fetch the redhead before she breaks the door down,” Gabe huffs.  Cas pushes to his feet and heads for the door, Charlie’s voice carrying through it before he makes it halfway.

“Castiel, you open this door right now!  There are too many cars out here, and you have some explaining to do—”  Charlie stops mid yell when Cas opens the door, her frown fading the moment she sees his face.

“Hey, Charlie,” he sighs.  She walks forward and jumps on him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck.  Cas hugs her back as her concern for him fills his nose.

“Who's put you in this mood?” she asks, and Cas is reminded that even though she can’t scent him, she’s perfect at reading him without it.  Cas sets her down again, stepping aside so she can see the two brothers standing in the living room. Cas almost laughs at how awkward and out of place they look.

“Charlie, this is Sam Winchester,” he says, gesturing at the taller brother, “and this is his brother Dean.”  Dean steps forward and offers his hand to Charlie with a practiced smile.

“Nice to finally meet you,” he says, and Cas doesn’t know if he’s doing it on purpose or if it’s a reflex, but he’s projecting his calming scent into the room.  Charlie shakes his hand, turning her arm so that Dean’s forearm faces up, her eyes darting to a strange birthmark that Cas hadn’t noticed before.

“Cas?”  Charlie takes her hand back from Dean, her words slow and measured.  “Why is the Chancellor’s heir in your living room? And why was I not informed the instant he arrived?”  Cas can smell Dean and Sam’s alarm that she knows who they are.

“Charlie-”  She cuts Cas off.

“Especially since he's the reason Dick has been in a mood all week.  You know, they only reopened the interstate this morning.” Charlie is acting angry, but she doesn't quite smell like it… Dean on the other hand is getting very agitated.

“I was going-” Cas tries again, hoping to catch this before it all blows out of proportion.

“And from the smell of this house Gabe is making my favorite dinner to appease me.  Well, it's not going to work,” she spins, yanking open the front door and storming out.

“Charlie, wait!”  By the time Cas catches up to her, she’s halfway down the driveway.  She stops and turns towards him, an expectant look on her face. It takes him all of two seconds to realize she’s not angry at all, and he rolls his eyes as she breaks out in a grin.  “You did all that for Dean’s benefit, didn't you?”

“Well, you've confirmed he's the one I can smell all over you, even with my lackluster nose,” she hums a knowing note.  “You think I was intimidating enough?” she giggles.

“Yes, very,” Cas hangs his head.  “I assume you want an explanation?”

“Damn right, I do.”  There's no avoiding it, so as quick as he can, Cas explains everything that's happened in the past three days.  He spares no details, not even x-rated ones, and as he’s getting to Gabe’s arrival that morning, a wave of dizziness has him swaying on his feet.  Charlie’s sudden concern thickens the air and makes him cough.

“Cas!  What's wrong?”

“I'm okay,” Cas insists, shaking his head to clear the strange feeling out and standing up straight again.  “These whiplashing scents from everyone are just taking their toll.”

“Cas, are you sure?  No offense but you look kinda awful.”

“Thanks,” he grunts, rolling his eyes.  “Might be a side effect of missing my meds, I couldn't tell you the last time I was off them.”

“You better call your doctor tomorrow,” Charlie insists, her concern fading a bit as she slides her arm in Cas’.  “But first, let me go get a proper introduction to your new coincidental boyfriend.” 

“Boyfriend?” Cas laughs at that, shaking his head.

“Why is that funny?”

“I dunno,” Cas shrugs, “it... I hadn't thought of Dean that way, but I guess that if we're technical about it, it's what he's become.”

“Does it feel like too much, or not enough?”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Charlie huffs, impatient with Cas’ inexperience, “that if that word feels like too much for what's between you, then you're not as serious as you think.”  Cas thinks for a moment, pausing to gather his thoughts before they walk inside, a small smile on his face

“It's not  _ nearly  _ enough, Charlie.”  They step inside the house, and Dean’s anxiety hits Cas in the nose before they even make it to the living room.  “Everything’s fine,” Cas insists before Dean can say anything. “Charlie enjoys stirring up trouble.” 

“Guilty,” she agrees.

“Well if you’re all done sizing each other up, dinner’s about ready,” Gabe calls from the kitchen.  Charlie heads in that direction, followed by Sam, but Dean stops Cas before he can follow.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning close and nosing in below his ear.  Cas shivers as Dean’s lips just brush his skin.

“I’m having a hard time keeping up with everything being thrown at me,” Cas admits.  He pulls back and offers Dean a smile. “But I’m okay, I promise. Nothing a little food won’t help.”  Dean doesn’t seem to believe him, but he nods and lets Cas lead the way to the kitchen, a not so subtle hand resting against his back.

Whatever hopes Cas had of a peaceful dinner are dashed the moment everyone is served and seated at the table.

“So here’s the problem I have with the Chancellorship,” Charlie starts in without prompting.  Cas glances at Gabe who shrugs and settles in to watch. They’ve been on the receiving end of Charlie’s political rants for so long this isn’t new to them, so Cas slides his leg over to brush Dean’s, supporting him with a small touch.  “It’s beyond outdated. Sure, maybe back when the country was in chaos we needed that centralized control, but nowadays it's just plain backwards. Like, I get it, your family has at least been kinda cool, but there’s so many things they could be doing to make this place better.”

“Okay first,” Dean interrupts, “you say ‘my family’ like I want anything to do with them.”  Sam pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth and turns to look at Dean with a curious expression on his face.  Dean nudges Cas’ leg under the table before taking a deep breath and continuing, his scent guarded but not upset.  “I wasn’t raised in Lebanon with the Campbells. My mom left them so she could mate my dad in peace. See, my parents fell in love, but their mating wasn't approved so they packed their things and ran off to live the life they wanted.”  The pain starts to leak into Dean’s scent now, as he stabs at his food. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I am anything like those Campbell bastards.” There’s a heavy silence for a moment as people eat.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie says.  “I didn’t…”

“And anyway,” Dean resumes, holding his arm out, “how the fuck did you know about this?”

“The birthmark?” Cas asks.  Dean nods, lowering his arm again.

“The omega heirs in the Campbell bloodline are all born with the mark, it helps identify us from birth so we can prepare for succession.”  He glares at Charlie for a moment. “It’s supposed to be a family secret, so that we’re kept safe from people who might want to hurt us.”

“I don’t- we would never!”  Charlie snaps her mouth shut, but not quick enough as fear starts to trickle into her scent.

“Who’s ‘we’?” Sam asks, his scent getting dark.  Everyone is staring at Charlie now, and she looks down at her plate.  

“We don’t have a name for ourselves, to keep us anonymous.”  As she speaks, her voice and scent get stronger and more determined, and Cas stares in wonder at a side of his best friend he’s never seen before.  “It started with me digging on the internet, as I do. Looking for people who agree that an elected government should take the place of the Chancellorship.  I found… well I found way more than I bargained for.” She looks up at Dean. “In fact, finding out that you don’t fall in step with your grandfather gives me hope.”

“What are you talking about?” Cas asks.

“Nothing that needs discussed right now,” Charlie insists.  “But I think...I think this can be a good thing?” She looks between Sam and Dean, who look at each other.  Cas watches as the silent conversation takes place, and finally the entire scent balance at the table relaxes.

“Yeah, I think it just might,” Sam agrees.  

After the initial outburst the rest of dinner goes much more smooth.  Charlie tells embarrassing stories about her and Cas, but the way Dean smiles at each new tale makes his discomfort worth it.  Sam gets around to returning the favor, telling stories about his and Dean's escapades growing up. The happiness Dean's feeling seemed to magnify all the other good feelings in the room.  Even when Cas’ continuing dizziness turns into a steady throb of a headache behind his eyes, he doesn’t let it bother him.

As the evening wears on, Gabe and Cas hurry outside to take care of the animals, returning in time to say goodbye to Charlie.  Charlie exchanges numbers with Sam, promising to get in touch with him in regards to her weird super secret... whatever. She wraps Dean in a hug when she says goodbye, and Cas doesn’t miss the smile on his face.

“I should find somewhere to stay,” Sam admits once Charlie leaves.

“Nonsense, you can stay here.”  Gabe pats Sam on the shoulder and winks at Cas.  “I can almost guarantee that your brother and my cousin are going to shack up tonight, and I will not be the only one psychologically scarred.”  Cas rolls his eyes, wincing at his headache, and Sam laughs when Dean grabs Cas’ hand and starts dragging him up the stairs.

“You heard the man, Cas, let’s get down to scarring these assholes.”  

“Sam can use the guest room Dean was using,” Cas calls over his shoulder to Gabe.

“Okay, right this way, Sam,” Gabe chuckles.  “And keep it PG you two!”

Once they’re behind Cas' closed door, Dean immediately moves into Cas’ space, cradling his face in his hands with concern in his scent.

“What's wrong?”  The change is almost a complete 180, and further emphasizes how well Dean has come to know Cas in only a few days.  “The past couple hours, something's been way off in your scent.” Cas takes Dean's wrists in a gentle grip and pulls his hands off his face, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

“I'm fine, I have a bit of a headache is all.”

“You sure?” Dean asks again, disbelief in his eyes.  

“I'm sure,” Cas nods, squeezing Dean’s hand.  “A lot of scents and news and not enough time to process it all.”  The crease on Dean’s brow smooths out, but the concern still lingers in his scent.  “Let's get to bed, okay?” 

“Okay, Cas.”  Dean follows Cas to the bathroom, the two of them brushing their teeth side by side, sharing shy looks in the mirror. Cas leaves so Dean can relieve himself, turning the bed down and arranging the pillows into a comfortable pile.  He slides out of his jeans, stretching out and closing his eyes. It's warm in his room, so he opts for covering his lower body with a sheet, leaving most of the blankets on Dean’s side of the bed.

Reality starts to sink in while he waits for Dean, the cold truth that they had all chosen to ignore that evening.  Dean is being searched for all over the state by people desperate to have him back in a ‘safe’ location. It's only a matter of time before they find him, and the longer it takes the worse it's going to be.

Dean walks out of the bathroom, turning off the light and plunging the room into darkness.  Cas feels the bed shift as Dean climbs under the covers, immediately followed by a very warm omega molding himself against Cas’ side.  Dean has pulled his jeans off as well, his t-shirt soft under Cas’ arm.

“You still smell worried,” Dean says into the quiet, nosing along Cas’ collarbone.  Cas takes a deep breath, the air full of Dean’s scent, and exhales.

“I am worried,” Cas admits.  “About us, about what comes next.”

“Hey,” Dean presses a chaste kiss against Cas’ chest, “we’ll figure this out.”

“How?  How in the world can we possibly work this out?”  Cas can't stop himself from saying it, not with Dean so close and wrapped up in his arms and his blankets.  “You can't stay here, and I can't go back with you.”

“Why not?”

“Dean...”

“No, Cas, I won’t let them take you from me.”  Cas wants to believe it, but he refuses to let himself.  The heat coming off of Dean’s body is distracting, but Cas pushes through it.

“You think your Grandfather would let you mate me?”

“Fuck him, Cas.  You know I don't give two shits about what he thinks.”  Dean’s calm scent is starting to get rough around the edges, anger and bitterness leaking in against Dean’s will.  Cas' head throbs with a new ache.

“Dean, Sam's scared, I know you can smell it on him.  If he’s that scared I know there’s something to be scared of.”

“Sam worries too much, he doesn’t know as much as he thinks.”  Cas presses his fingers to Dean’s lower back, his grip tighter than expected.

“Does this have anything to do with the shame you felt earlier?  When Sam was talking about you hiding?” Cas winces as Dean’s scent sours.

“I suppose, in a way.  I… my dad is a very strong, very proud alpha.  Sometimes, it feels like all he sees when he looks at me is my gender.  He doesn't look at me as his son, but as an omega.” As Dean’s scent grows bitter and pained, Cas realizes that Dean deals with that from  _ everyone _ .  They see the omega heir first and then Dean himself second.  “See, you talk about me being important, but my Dad... ever since I presented I’ve been nothing but a responsibility.  And I’m not even gonna start with how my grandfather treats me.” 

“Dean...”  Dean shakes head, pressing kisses against Cas’ cotton covered chest.  Dean moves himself up over Cas’ body, continuing his kisses along Cas’ shoulder as his knees come to rest on either side of Cas' left thigh.

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Cas.”  The air is thick with a mixture of emotions and Cas feels like he can't breathe.  He's suffocating from the heat but too afraid Dean is going to stand up and walk out right now to let go.  Dean’s words are hot against the skin on his neck, his breathing heavy as his scent shifts into a dark sweetness.  “I'm not giving you up without a fight. I refuse to lose the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Cas feels his cheeks flush, his fingers desperate as they scrape against Dean’s back.  “I don’t know how,” Dean continues, “but I will find a way.” Dean’s promise rings true, but the weight on Cas' chest doesn’t lighten, the air still coming thick into his lungs. Cas opens his mouth to pant for breath as Dean leans back, lifting his weight off of Cas and examining his face in concern.

Then it hits Cas; the headache, the need for oxygen, how warm he's feeling…

Almost on cue, his skin starts to crawl, everything feeling  _ off _ , and Cas knows what’s happening.

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

This isn't supposed to happen, not for another four weeks.  And it couldn't be happening at a worse time.

“Cas, what's wrong?” Dean asks, sitting up completely and kneeling next to Cas.  Cas misses his touch immediately, desperate to grab hold of Dean and pull him back.  With a lot less clothes, and more lips, and…

“Dean,” Cas turns his face away and squeezes his eyes shut.  “I’m uh, I think you being here has, uh, reset my cycle.” He waits a few moments, and with only his nose he can tell when Dean figures out what he’s talking about.  

The shift in Dean’s scent from concerned to excited is immediate and  _ amazing _ .

“What do you need?” Dean asks without hesitation.

“I don't have much time, and I need you to go,” Cas grunts as he sits up, propping himself against the headboard.  The wood is cold against his heated skin, but the chill helps to keep him focused.

“Fuck that, Cas, I’m not letting you do this alone.”  Dean’s scent is already turning sweeter with arousal, flooding Cas’ nose and setting his brain spinning.  Dean helping sounds like a great idea, which is all the more reason Cas knows he shouldn't let him. Every rut he’s ever had has been horrible, and during every single one he loses time the first 24 hours.  With Dean already starting to smell like pure sexual perfection, Cas can feel his control starting to slip.

“No!” Cas barks, finally opening his eyes.  “No way.”

“Cas...” 

“I won't be able to control myself.”  Cas kicks the sheet off his legs, desperate to remove the rest of his clothes, too, but restraining himself.  “I mean it, Dean. I lose myself completely.” He can feel the changes shifting in his body, the symptoms he's grown so accustomed to over the years starting to come on full force.  The worst part is feeling like his body isn't his, that the very skin he's wearing no longer fits right. He's got about ten minutes of coherence left before he loses his rational thought process.  He needs to get Dean out of here,  _ now.  “Please _ , Dean, just go.”

“Cas, you don't understand, I  _ need _ to help,” Dean insists, his posture tense, nostrils flared and eyes dark.  Cas is erect, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide it, and the scent of Dean’s arousal is unbelievable, intoxicating, and  _ not helping _ .

“What if you catch a pup?”  Cas is clinging to reality with the last shreds of his sanity, his vision blurring around the edges.  “Fuck, Dean what if I bite?”

“Cas,” Dean laughs, the tone more dangerous than humorous.  “I'm not going to catch a pup. I've been on suppressors since my last heat, I can't catch a pup until my next one.  And as far as mating goes, if you don't want to yet, then don't.” The thought of Dean in heat sends a jolt through Cas’ system, his skin insisting that he needs to be naked and he needs Dean under him  _ now _ .

“ _ Damnit _ ,” Cas bites out.  The scent of Dean’s slick hits the air, poignant and pure, and Cas knocks his head hard against the wall to keep his focus.  “Dean, I’ll bite, regardless if I want to or not. I don't-”

“You  _ do _ want me as your mate?” Dean asks, his voice sharp, focused where Cas' world is going fuzzy.  With a whimper, Cas nods. “And I want you. My omega has been crying for you since I caught your scent.  My soul has been willing since you knocked Sam on his ass to protect me.” Cas doesn't see it, his vision a red blur, but he feels Dean’s fingers against his cheek, warm and rough and feeling way too fucking perfect.

“You shouldn't-”

“If you bite, we’ll deal with it, Cas.  I trust you, alpha,” Dean purrs.

Cas’ first solid wave of rut punches into his gut and he  _ snaps _ .  Instinct overrides higher thinking and nothing but  _ omegamateneed _ fills his head.  Cas is watching himself from outside his body, unable to do anything but hang on for dear life.  

He literally rips his shirt and underwear off, the fabric tearing in his hands.  Cas knocks his omega on his back, pulling and ripping Dean's clothes off as well till they’re both naked.  His omega reaches for him, fingers grasping and needy. Cas takes his omega’s lips, nipping and laying claim as he cages the omega in with his arms and legs.  His omega makes small pleased noises, the scent of his slick heavy in the air. Cas hums, a pleased vibration in his chest. He noses behind his omega’s ear, lapping at his skin and the scent of his arousal, the arousal only  _ he _ gets to taste.

“ _ My omega _ ,” he rumbles.  He continues licking down his omega’s skin. When the omega shifts underneath him, Cas weighs him down with his body.  He holds his omega in place, nipping at the omega’s collar bone. He takes the omega’s hands, holding them above his head to keep the omega still while he works.  He licks and noses against his omega’s skin until he's found the perfect spot. He bares his teeth.

_ Stop, stop, STOP!!   _

A tiny spark of sanity flickers in his mind, bringing him back into himself.  Cas is trying to pull away, but his body is scent drunk and won't obey him. He starts to hear the vague sound of Dean’s voice through the rush of blood in his ears.

“Castiel, come back to me.”  He's repeating it over and over, calm and even, like a mantra or a prayer.  Cas’ alpha hesitates, pulling away from the little patch of skin he'd picked out, as his red tinged eyes meet green.

“Omega?”  Cas’ voice doesn't even feel like his, but as he holds Dean’s gaze, the red fuzz in his eyes starts to clear.

“Hey, little alpha.  Come back to me.” Cas blinks a few times as his vision clears, the rush of pheromones backing down.  As soon as he feels control come back he scrambles off of Dean, landing sprawled on his back on the far side of the bed.  Cas’ heart is pounding a furious rhythm in his throat, his chest heaving as he gasps for breath, sweat dripping down his skin.

_ Dean did it _ .  

Somehow, against all the rules of logic, Dean brought Cas back to himself.  Cas’ body aches with need, thick arousal still swirling in the air between them, but he is  _ himself _ .  Dean, also panting, crawls over top of Cas’ prone form, settling on his thighs and smiling down at him.  

“Hello, Dean,” Cas sighs, returning the smile.

“There you are,” Dean grins, leaning down to give him a gentle kiss.  Cas chases Dean’s lips as he pulls away, but he isn’t fast enough to recapture them before Dean is nuzzling against his cheek.  “Told you this would be okay,” Dean’s voice is a purr, caressing Cas’ skin as he buries his nose in Cas’ neck. Another wave of  _ need _ sets Cas’ body buzzing with urgency, and he digs his nails into the skin of Dean’s hips.  His cock brushes Dean's stomach where he's sprawled over him, electric pleasure zinging up his spine.  Cas knows this control he has is still very, very  _ fragile _ .

“I'm sorry, so so sorry,” Cas breathes, and Dean shushes him, leaning down completely to finally roll their groins together.  Sparks of desire light a fire in Cas, and a low groan rips from Cas’ throat.

“It's okay,” Dean rumbles, “let me take care of you, okay?”  Cas is helpless to do anything else, squirming and whimpering as Dean makes his way down Cas’ body.  He licks and nips until he gets to Cas’ cock, throbbing with each fast paced beat of Cas’ heart.

The first brush of Dean’s tongue sends a wave of goosebumps skittering across his skin, the second chases those goosebumps with heat.  By the time Dean’s lips have closed around him, Cas is already desperate, every touch magnified by his rut. Combined with the ambrosia scent of Dean’s slick, Cas’ body is burning from the inside out,  _ need _ pulsing through him in solid waves.  Dean seems to sense it, that Cas has reached his breaking point, sliding off of Cas and crawling up his body to kiss him.

“It's okay,” Dean gasps, his breathing harsh in the quiet room.  “Cas, it's okay, enjoy this.” He punctuates his statement with a thrust into Cas’ groin, and Cas’ control of his alpha slips.  He rolls the omega onto his stomach and settles over top of him, fingers tracing the curve of his spine. He’s floored by his omega’s scent from the slick covering his skin, and Cas runs his fingers down to his omega’s entrance.  One pass through the slick collected there is all he needs to know his omega is ready. He sits up, and when the omega raises his hips in invitation, white hot need to  _ possess _ spreads from Cas’ chest.  The red tinge starts to return around the very edge of his vision.

“ _ Omega _ ,” he growls over the heated flesh below him, his omega whimpering and shifting his hips again.  

“Cas,  _ alpha _ , please,” his omega gasps, lifting himself onto his knees in perfect presentation.  His alpha brain buzzes as he leans in for a taste, grazing his tongue over the flesh laid out in front of him.  His omega tastes better than he smells, the sensation of his wet heat on Cas’ tongue sending him on a feedback loop of  _ mineomegamateclaim _ .

“So ready for me, my omega,” he growls, slipping two fingers inside, bending them until-

“ _ Alpha _ !”  Slick is coating Cas’ whole hand now, and he wipes it clean on the sheets as he gets up on his knees.   As soon as he’s aligned the tip of his cock with his omega’s opening, his omega pushes back, seating Cas inside him in one smooth thrust.

The air is punched out of Cas’ lungs, and Dean moans long and low, the shock of bliss enough to ground Cas back in himself.  

Oh,  _ god _ .  This is nothing,  _ nothing _ compared to any of the betas he’s been with before, and not because slick is better than lube.  This experience is wholly unique, this melding of two people into one, alpha and omega, how they're  _ meant _ to be.

Cas wastes no time setting up a rhythm, fucking Dean hard and fast with his hands a bruising grip on Dean’s hips.  There’s words of praise tumbling from Dean’s lips, a sharp contrast to Cas’ animalistic grunts, but all it does is spur Cas on.  His knot grows, catching on Dean's rim with every thrust and making Dean cry out. A voice in his head starts to scream  _ matematemate _ , his mouth hovering over the muscles in his omega's shoulders desperate to bite and claim.  

“ _ Omega _ ,” Cas growls in warning, “I- I can't-”  He can taste skin against his lips, all he has to do is bite down-

“Alpha.”  Dean doesn’t just say it, his voice is a  _ command _ .  Cas turns his face away at the last second as he thrusts forward hard, his knot swelling and tying them together for the first time.  

He rides out his orgasm, grinding his hips downward until he feels his omega's walls clench around him, Dean’s head snapping back as he comes on a silent shout.  Careful to keep them tucked close, he rolls them onto their sides, nuzzling into his omega’s neck. Cas’ hands move of their own volition, trailing down low over Dean’s belly, teasing along the curve of his hip bones and the ridges of his muscles.  Dean shifts a bit and Cas tucks him closer, contentment filling Dean's scent.

“I told you I’m not going to catch a pup,” Dean huffs, “you can stop checking now, it tickles.”  Cas blinks his eyes open, his endorphin high reducing the urgency of his rut to a dull itch in the back of his mind.  Their scents…  _ god _ Cas has never smelled something so wonderful, so comforting, so…  _ home _ .

“Hm?  What?”  Cas’ voice is hoarse, and when he coughs to clear it, his knot jumps inside Dean, pulling a groan from him and milking another from Cas.  “Fuck,” he gasps, dropping his forehead to rest against Dean’s shoulder. 

“Mmhmmm, and it was awesome,” Dean sighs.  Cas lifts his head, pressing chaste kisses against the base of Dean’s skull.

“You pulled me back,” he breathes, “twice.  How the hell did you do that?” Dean slides his fingers into Cas’, squeezing tight where they rest on his belly.

“I had a theory,” Dean explains, “that the reason your ruts have been so bad is because you've never had someone whose instincts are strong enough to keep up.”

“A theory?”  Dean turns his head and shoulders, shifting his hips that are still tied to Cas.  On instinct Cas grinds up into him, and Dean lets out a pleased hum. “Don't try to distract me,” Cas gasps, though he’s kind of glad his knot is staying up so long.  He didn't have the chance to absorb their first time together with any kind of clarity, he wants to enjoy the afterglow at least. Cas shifts onto his elbow, lifting his head to look down at Dean who’s grinning up at him.  “You really risked everything on a _ theory _ ?”

“I was right, wasn't I?”  Dean’s way too smug for his own good so Cas grinds into him again, wiping the smirk right off his face as Cas’ knot brushes his prostate.  A keening sigh leaves Dean’s lips as he clenches around Cas’ knot, coming one more time.

“What if you were wrong?” Cas asks when they catch their breath.  “What if you hadn't pulled me back?”

“Cas, I could  _ feel _ it, couldn't you?”  Cas opens his mouth to object, but Dean's words strike a chord; something about them feels... _ right _ .

“Ass,” Cas grouses, burying his nose in Dean’s neck, drifting off to sleep to the sound of Dean's laugh.


	7. Who I Am

Cas doesn't know how long he sleeps, but judging by the dark room and quiet house when he wakes it isn't long.  His skin is on fire where it's pressed against Dean’s body, and he rolls over the sleeping omega, lips sucking a mark into the skin on his shoulder blade.  The scent of his rut, usually bitter and harsh to his nose, is mixed with the scent of sex and  _ Dean _ , and Cas breathes deep, taking it all in.  His hands travel over Dean’s flesh, possessive as they grab and squeeze.  Cas shifts the blanket down, exposing more of Dean’s skin and the setting Cas’ nerves tingling.

“Mmm, time again?” Dean hums,  tucking his knees underneath him to raise himself up.  Cas growls and drapes himself over Dean, searching fingers cupping his ass, kneading the flesh.  After a quick check to make sure Dean’s ready, Cas slides home in one solid thrust, immediately setting a quick, snapping rhythm with his hips.  Cas’ mind slips out of the moment, a muddled blur of rut craze and utter bliss carrying conscious thought away completely.   
  
  


The next time he wakes, he can't processes anything except for the warm body pressed against his and the scent of omega.  Cas’ hips move against Dean in a slow roll, and Dean grunts, a slight lifting of his leg a silent invitation. With surprising ease, Cas slides inside Dean again, the mess they've built up easing his way.  He leaves a new hickey, dark purple on Dean's shoulder, and soon they're tied together again. Cas passes out.   
  
  


Sunlight bores into Cas’ eyelids, dragging him into wakefulness.  He's achy and groggy, like a bad hangover, and the fuzziness in his mouth adds to that effect.  The worst hours of his rut are over, the burning need and the unsettled skin shifting into a mild annoyance at the back of his mind.  He blinks opens his eyes, a field of freckles and spiky brown hair dominating his vision.

Dean is  _ beautiful _ .  The line of his jaw leading down to perfect pink lips.  The tiny laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. The soft flush in his cheeks from sleep.  Even the stubble lining his face is perfectly even, no thin patches or empty gaps in the darker hairs.  Cas wants to kiss every square inch of his face, to shower it with praise and affection, because his omega is  _ wonderful _ .

And being with an omega has made him a disgusting sap first thing in the morning.

Dean's octopused around Cas, legs and arms tangled together in a hopeless mess.  Cas doesn't bother trying to untangle them, remaining still and quiet while he waits for Dean to wake.  Most of the previous night is a blur; Cas knows what happened, he can feel it in his aching thighs, but he can't remember it.  The only part he remembers is their brief conversation after his first knot, and even that is hazy in the morning light. Cas’ eyes trail over what he can see of Dean’s shoulders, both happy and disappointed there's nothing permanent on Dean's skin.  He knows for the next week or so he and Dean will be scent bonded to the other, but after a few showers that will all be gone. He wants to claim Dean, to bite and mark him as his own, but he can't. And it physically  _ hurts _ , an ache behind his sternum that twists at his heart.

Dean rolls onto his back in his sleep and winces.  _  Speaking of hurting _ .  Cas feels like an asshole, because he knows there's no way he stopped for any aftercare while in his haze.  The smell of sex is thick in Cas’ nose, he can taste it on his tongue, and suddenly it's all too much.  _ Everything _ is too much, the fact that Dean smells like him, that he spent the first 24 hours of his rut with a man he just met.  He thinks about Dean’s vague backstory he’d shared with Charlie, about his childhood and how ominous and mysterious it sounded.  Cas realizes he doesn’t know much at  _ all _ about Dean, not enough to even date him, let alone be here spending a rut with him.  Panic starts to settle in his chest, souring the content smell that's surrounding them.

What if Dean’s wrong about them?  What if he's wrong about catching a pup?  Cas is sweating, part from residual rut, part from anxiety, and in his attempt to escape the heat from Dean’s body, Dean stirs in his sleep.

“Hmm?  Cas?” Dean sits up, looking down at Cas as Cas kicks the blankets off, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

“I’m,  _ god _ Dean, I'm so sorry,” he mutters, scrambling from the messy sheets to climb to his feet.

“Why do you smell... Cas what's wrong?” Dean asks, climbing out of bed to follow.  His scent's laced with concern, but there's underlying emotion, affection Cas can smell under his  _ own _ scent.  It's terrifying.

“I shouldn't- we shouldn't have- what the hell did I do?”  When Dean approaches him, he takes two steps back. He can see the dark purple edge of a hickey on Dean’s shoulder, and as his eyes trail downward the distinct marks from his fingers on Dean’s hips.  “Fuck, I'm, I'm sorry,” Cas gasps, turning his gaze away from Dean, desperate for clothes. Before he can scramble for the pair of pants on his floor, Dean catches his wrist.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Dean’s voice is soft, soothing, and it churns Cas’ stomach how fast he wants to relax into it.

“Don't, don't you pull that omega crap on me,” Cas snaps, pulling his hand away from Dean’s warm fingers.

“Fine,” Dean snaps back, “so long as you don't pull that alpha crap on me.”  Cas blinks at Dean, completely confused on top of his guilt.

“What alpha crap?”

“This,” Dean quips, gesturing at Cas.  “This pulling back because you're scared shitless.  Not letting me help you because it's your job to take care of me.”  Cas has no idea how Dean manages to look intimidating standing in the middle of his room naked, but he does.  His own scent turns remorseful, sharp enough to pierce the scent of their sex.

“I've got every right to be scared,” Cas runs a hand through his hair, catching on a few tangles from sleep… or Dean’s fingers, he can't remember.  “I've just met you, and I spent the past 12 hours  _ using _ you.  With no condom, I might add.”

“Cas, I told you-”

“And what if you're wrong?!” Cas interrupts.  “Dean, we’re already in a shitload of trouble with you being MIA, adding a child to the mix would only make it exponentially worse.”  To Dean’s credit, he does look and smell a little sorry, but that's overshadowed by him dropping a hand to his lower belly, ernest green eyes meeting Cas’.

“You didn't  _ use _ me, Cas,” he sighs, almost like he feels sorry for the alpha.  “And I  _ told _ you, I won't catch a pup.”  Dean runs his hand over his own shoulder, fingers lingering on one of Cas’ darker hickeys.  “What happened, Cas, is you made love to me for hours, doing nothing but whisper to me about how beautiful I was, how wonderful it felt to be with me.”  Cas flushes crimson all the way down his bare chest.

“I did?”  Cas feels a little nervous as Dean gapes at him.

“You don't remember?” Dean blurts.  Cas shakes his head. “Cas, if you were in a craze, you sure weren't acting like it.”  His breathy chuckle breaks some of Cas’ tension, and Cas rubs absently at his stubble.

“I mean, I remember vague details, but nothing like that.”  The tinge of sadness in his scent doesn't go unnoticed by Dean, who steps closer again, hands open and reaching for Cas.

“Cas, if everything goes the way I want...” Dean pauses, “the way  _ we _ want,” he corrects, “we’ll have plenty of time to enjoy each other.  This is your first rut spent the way it should be.”

“You say how ‘it should be’, what does that even mean?” 

“Alpha and omega,” Dean shrugs.  “Our biology isn't dulled like everyone else's, and when we get together it's... Look, I,” it's Dean’s turn to shift in discomfort.  “...I don't know, last night felt so, well... ‘perfect’ doesn't cover it,” Dean's scent is swelling with happiness, as is the smile on his face.  “Cas, I know, this is new and scary, and I may not show it but I'm as scared as you are. I-I guess I know that if I'm with you, we can work it out.”  Cas groans, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face.

“You're such a hopeless romantic, and optimist for that matter,” Cas laughs.  Dean grins, bright and shining and filling Cas’ soul.

“Just don't tell anyone.”  Dean closes the final distance between them, wrapping his arms around Cas in a tight embrace.  The press of rut heated skin to sweet smelling omega skin sends Cas’ need shooting straight to the surface again.  He whimpers, clinging to Dean’s bare back as his knees shake with the sudden onset of arousal. Dean presses his lips to Cas’ forehead before nosing against his hair and his temple.  “Come on, Cas. One more wave and we’ll get some food and water in you.” Cas can't argue, and Dean pulls away, moving towards the bed.

“Oh,  _ oh _ , Dean,” Cas breathes as Dean turns his back to him.  Several dark marks litter Dean’s shoulders and back, a few ringed by red marks from Cas’ teeth.  Dean glances over his shoulder at Cas, a coy smile on his face as the scent of omega slick hits the air.

“Soon enough, sweetheart, you can make them permanent,” Dean purrs, and Cas’ next breath ends on a moan.

Cas staggers forward, letting Dean manhandle him onto his back, every brush of Dean’s skin sending the now familiar pulses of heat through Cas’ body.  Once Dean has him where he wants him, he straddles Cas’ hips, looking down at him with a grin Cas can only describe as animalistic.

Dean is so beautiful it's breathtaking.  His skin is flushed in response to Cas’ rut, the curves of his muscles leading Cas’ eyes downward along his body.  Cas' visual journey ends at a pair of gorgeous hips and a hardening cock. Cas’ fingers reach out to stroke him, and Dean’s eyes flutter shut.

“ _ Cas _ ,” Dean groans, a wave of slick hitting the air, spreading over Cas’ erection as Dean rolls against it.  Cas continues to work Dean’s flesh with gentle touches, until Dean growls in frustration and rises up to his knees.  Before Cas can object he reaches behind himself and lines Cas up, sliding home with a whimper.

“Shit, Dean, you must be sore,” Cas worries, fingers releasing his cock in favor of running over Dean’s torso in apology.

“Cas, don't you  _ ever  _ apologize for this,” he chuckles, squeezing down on Cas and drawing a moan from Cas’ throat.  Their scents explode into the room, thick with happiness and desire, and Cas gives himself over to it.

Dean is eager as he rides him, their hands traveling in restless patterns over hips and thighs.  Dean pulls Cas’ hands to his lips and presses gentle kisses over his fingers and palms as he rises and falls.  Cas has never seen anything so gorgeous, Dean’s muscles bunching with effort as Cas disappears into his slick heat again and again.  Cas can feel the edge barreling towards him, overwhelmed by the sight. The steady flow of slick has drenched his thighs, the wetness making obscene noises underneath their heavy breaths.

“I promise,” Cas gasps between pants, “that one day, I'm going to fuck you for  _ hours _ .”  Dean whimpers and increases his pace as Cas’ swelling knot starts to catch on his rim.  “Take my time, make you  _ beg _ for my knot.”  

“Please,” Dean cries, head thrown back in bliss, “please, Cas.”  Cas pushes his hips up hard into Dean’s slick heat and his knot catches, spilling into Dean.  Dean’s body locks up around him, his own release spilling onto Cas’ stomach. Cas sits up, wrapping his arms around Dean’s back as Dean’s legs wrap around Cas’ waist.  He presses his nose to Dean’s neck, lapping up his sweat and his post sex pheromones, his instincts taking pride in how much Dean smells like him. Dean's fingers add a set of bruises to Cas' back, but Cas doesn't mind.

They're covered in sweat and come and slick and it doesn't matter.  Everything in the world, in that moment, is perfect.

Until there's a heavy knock on Cas’ door.  

The sudden squeezing of muscles in surprise from both of them draws another release from Cas, and he muffles his whimper in the skin of Dean’s chest.

“You're seriously going to make me do these chores on my own?!” Gabe calls through Cas’ door.

“Fuck my life,” Cas grumbles into Dean’s skin.

“Afraid you're on your own this morning,” Dean calls out, his voice a bit too loud.  Cas freezes in horror.  _ The hell was Dean doing?! _

“And why is that?” Gabe asks in a sing song voice, his curiosity piqued.  Cas shakes his head violently, but Dean only smirks.

“Cas is a little tied up right now,” Dean answers, and Cas stares up at him, completely mortified.  In response Dean rolls his hips  _ hard _ , tugging on Cas’ knot and Cas is unable to silence his moan.  Cas buries his face in Dean’s chest, feeling like he might spontaneously combust from the embarrassment.

“What do you...” Gabe goes quiet, processing what he's heard.  “Yeah, okay, nope. Nope nopeity, nope…” Gabe's footsteps retreat in a rush down the hall, and Cas glares at Dean as vicious as he can.

“What?” Dean asks, eyes wide and innocent.  Cas flips them, silencing Dean’s yelp with his hand as he grinds his knot hard into Dean’s prostate over and over.  Cas' palm muffles Dean's wanton moans, and the omega shakes hard when he comes again, Cas following shortly after.

“I’d say fuck you but I think that covered it,” Cas growls into Dean’s ear.  Dean nods, whimpering as Cas rolls his knot against his over stimulated prostate one last time.  Cas removes his hand, nosing against Dean’s neck, which Dean bends in willing submission.

“M’sorry.”  The satisfaction in Dean's scent shows he’s not  _ that  _ sorry, but Cas gives him a gentle kiss to accept his apology anyway.  Dean wraps his arms around Cas’ neck, their scents full to bursting with contentment as they drift off to sleep, tied together in body and soul.   
  
  


Cas stirs into wakefulness yet again a short while later, and he can smell food outside his bedroom door.  Careful to extract himself from Dean without elbowing him in anything important, he slips out of bed and heads towards his door.  He opens it long enough to grab the reusable shopping bag Gabriel left him and closes it again. Inside Cas finds a few bottles each of water and Gatorade and the box of protein bars he kept stashed in the cupboard for his rut.  In addition there are two forks and a tupperware container of fresh scrambled eggs and bacon. The smell of the food stirs Dean into wakefulness, his eyes blinking open to gaze at Cas in a groggy haze.

“Mm, bacon?”

“Bacon,” Cas confirms.  Dean pushes himself up into a sitting position, and Cas almost drops the food in distraction when the blanket slips from his body.  Dean snorts when he notices, and takes the bag from Cas, setting everything but the hot food, forks, and one bottle of water on the floor.

“C’mere, Cas.”  Dean scoots back to lean on the headboard, and Cas follows his example, his stomach grumbling when Dean pops open the container.

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually been hungry during my rut, at least not this early into it,” Cas admits.

“Well let's take advantage of that and polish these off, huh?”  Dean hands one of the forks to Cas and between them they make short work of the eggs and bacon, sharing the water bottle between them.  Once the container is empty Dean pops the lid on it and sets it on the bedside table, snuggling into Cas. It isn't long before the itch beneath Cas’ skin is back, as is the arousal in his scent.  Without a word Dean swings a leg over Cas’ thighs, pressing a bacon flavored kiss against his lips. 

“You like being on top,” Cas observes, and Dean snorts at the double entendres, nosing under his jaw to nip at his skin.

“Mmm, so what if I do?”  Cas doesn’t answer right away, his heart beat skipping over itself as Dean’s scent shifts into something raw and beautiful.  “Cas…” It’s only his name but it’s loaded with so much emotion it makes Cas blush.

There’s something more than Cas’ rut to their sex this time.  Dean rides Cas to a quick completion, and Cas tucks Dean in tight to his body, fingers tracing idle patterns into Dean’s lower back.  Dean buries his nose against Cas' pulse point, scenting him like he’s trying to take as much of Cas in as possible. Cas can still scent it in the air, something is shifting between them, and it gives him the courage to speak up.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you tell me about your childhood?”

“Really? You want to talk about that now?” Dean rolls his hips to make the point that they’re still tied together.

“It’s not like we can go anywhere,” Cas points out.  Dean is silent for a moment, his scent dropping from afterglow euphoric to cautious

“What do you want to know?” 

“You mentioned to Charlie you weren’t raised with the Chancellor.  Why?” Dean sits up, eyes meeting Cas’, and he must find whatever he needs in Cas’ eyes and scent because he starts talking.

“Most of what I know is from my dad,” Dean shrugs.  “I've been able to figure out the truth of his embellishments over the years.  He worked for the Chancellorship, kind of like their handyman, and he and mom fell in love.  Mom wasn’t the omega heir, her brother was, but her dad, Chancellor Samuel still wanted her to mate someone he chose.  So mom and dad ran off to this little farm in North Central.” Dean takes a deep breath, Cas’ hands squeezing his hips, a small encouragement.  “Then Christian died.”

“I remember that,” Cas says, thinking back to the news reports he’d heard as a child.

“You do?  I was a baby when it happened.”

“Well, surprise, I guess I'm about 5 years older than you,” Cas huffs.  Dean smiles, his scent affectionate for a moment before it turns serious again.

“Anyway, people don’t _ usually _ know about the birthmark...” Dean pauses with a small frown, and Cas remembers Charlie knew about it.

“I don’t know that Charlie counts,” Cas says, and Dean half smiles before he continues.  

“Anyway, without knowing about the mark, Dad didn’t realize what I was when I was born, and I guess mom didn’t tell him.”  Dean’s scent turns melancholy, the echoes of old pain in his voice. “When I turned four, Sam was born, and mom... she started bleeding and…”  Cas lifts his hand to cup Dean’s cheek, wanting to soothe him but also sensing Dean doesn’t want to give into his memories. “But since Dad didn’t know about me, he stayed out there on the farm.  Until I presented.” Dean lifts his hand to Cas’ where it still rests on his cheek, ducking his chin to scent at Cas’ wrist. They’re no longer tied, but neither of them are willing to move. “That’s when he took me back to Lebanon, when he realized what I was.  And that’s also when he… changed. He grew more distant, less of a father than he used to be, and now… I don’t know if we can ever fix our relationship.” Dean’s scent is sour with regret, and Cas can’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around him, tugging him in close.

“I understand,” Cas hums, trying his best to soothe Dean even as another wave starts to itch under his skin.  While Dean’s situation may have been much more extreme, he does understand what it was like having a demanding and distant parent.  In the end they were both two lonely kids who only wanted their parents to love them.

“I know, Cas.  Thanks.” Cas releases Dean enough to kiss him, showing him in his scent and the movement of his lips how thankful he is Dean opened up to him.  His rut sizzles back to life, but he ignores it, letting himself sweat and letting his skin crawl to try and help  _ Dean _ feel better.  Dean pulls back as the scent of his rut gets too strong, dropping down on his back and pulling his knees back to open himself up.  The rut sizzles and sparks down Cas’ body, but there’s still something off in Dean’s scent, so he struggles to keep himself in check.

He moves down the bed so he’s level with Dean’s hips, pressing gentle kisses over the bruises he’d left before.  Sweat starts to drip from his brow and down his back but he holds back, continuing his gentle kisses down Dean’s inner thighs.  An ache starts in his core, but he lays himself down on his stomach, propped up on his elbows.

“Cas, what-“ Dean gasps as Cas presses a gentle kiss to his swollen entrance.  Another press of lips and Dean's gasp turns into a pleased moan. Cas drags his tongue over the sensitive flesh, not pressing but firm enough Dean can feel it.  Dean’s scent is clearing of the negative emotions, and Cas smiles.

“Relax,” he urges, replacing Dean’s hands at his knees with his own as he begins to work in steady swipes of his tongue.  Dean grunts, his scent clearing into nothing but arousal, and that’s all the encouragement Cas needs. Any other time he might feel embarrassed at how desperate he is eating Dean out but right now all his alpha wants is to make his omega happy.  Fresh slick coats the skin he’s licked clean, and while Cas’ body is throbbing he just needs a little more time before he gives in.

“Ah, Cas,  _ fuck _ !”  Dean’s hands are in his hair, fingers scraping and tugging against his scalp as he writhes under Cas’ tongue.  “Cas, Cas stop! I’m- god I’m close!” Cas pulls away and wipes his face on the back of his hand, Dean's lust dark eyes tracing the movement.  Cas moves forward and covers Dean’s body with his own, slotting into place as Dean’s legs immediately wrap around his waist. He kisses Dean as best he can, but for the most part they’re mouthing at each other’s lips, sharing air filled with the scent of mates and home.

Cas can’t deny it now, as he comes and locks them together again, Dean's back arching into his own orgasm.  He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that someday, he’s going to carry this man’s bite with pride.    
  
  


The sun comes up bright and clear on the third day after Cas’ rut began, and Cas is relieved to find his rut has run its course.  All he wants to do is  _ sleep _ for at least a week, but there’s a restlessness in the air, a heavy foreboding that sits at the back of Cas’ mind.  Dean stirs next to him, turning his head to bury his nose in Cas’ neck.

“All back to normal,” he sighs into Cas’ skin.

“You almost sound disappointed,” Cas huffs, pushing himself out of bed and onto aching thighs.  When Dean stands up as well he winces, and Cas almost laughs.

“Okay, yeah, maybe we’re due for a break.”  Dean winks as he heads for the bathroom, a slight waddle on his bowed legs making Cas swell with a little pride.    
  


Cas gets the shower started and they both brush their teeth.  Not ready to use his scent neutralizing soap, Cas manages to find some old, normal, bar soap at the back of his cupboard.  They climb under the water and Cas lathers his hands up with the soap, making slow passes over Dean’s skin. These gentle touches feel like something much more intimate than the sex they've shared.  Instead, more like something shared between mates. They switch places, Dean as thorough and as gentle as Cas as he washes Cas’ body. Cas closes his eyes as Dean’s hands map his shoulder blades, leaning back as Dean’s hands finish roaming and wrap around him from behind.

In a sudden epiphany, Cas feels it, he feels what they’ve become, and he feels what he’s going to lose.  He whimpers, his scent sharpening into something raw and vulnerable, and Dean immediately takes Cas’ weight into his arms.  The omega turns him and tucks him up underneath his chin to scent at his neck. Cas drinks it in, desperate fingers clinging to damp skin as he takes all the comfort Dean can give.  Dean doesn't try to talk to him about the change, which Cas is grateful for; he isn't sure he knows how to put it into words yet. As Dean's hands cling to Cas, he realizes Dean may not need to ask because he might already feel it, too.  When Cas has leveled out again, the two of them climb out of the shower to dry off and get dressed.

Dean pauses before they leave the room, taking Cas’ face between his palms and kissing him, soft and tender.

Cas feels like it’s a kiss goodbye.


	8. Separation

They make their way downstairs to find Sam and Gabriel waiting for them in the kitchen.

“So they’ve surfaced,” Gabe mumbles, smirking when Cas blushes, but otherwise much more muted than what Cas was expecting.  Sam looks anxious and reeks of nerves, and with a sense of an oncoming storm Cas frowns.

“Sam, is everything okay?” he asks.  Dean is staring at his brother, realization dawning on his face.

“He’s coming, isn’t he?” Dean sighs. 

“Jody called to warn me an hour ago,” Sam admits.  “We have about six hours.” The utter dread in Dean’s scent gives Cas’ stomach an unpleasant turn.

“Dean what’s going on?” he asks quietly, breakfast forgotten.

“My dad’s figured out where I am, he’s coming to get me,” Dean explains.  Gabe shoots a concerned look at Cas and walks out of the room. Either he decided he isn’t part of this conversation, or maybe Sam has already filled him in.

“Dean, we need to get out of here,” Sam says in a voice prepared for a fight.  

“I’m not running, Sam, not from him.”  Dean’s anger is thick in Cas’ nose, the bitter scent unsettling after the past few days of shared bliss.

“Even to me, you  _ reek _ of alpha rut,” Sam glances at Cas in apology.  “You saw my reaction to a mild scent marking, you know Dad’s going to be ten times worse.”

“Like I’m supposed to care,” Dean scoffs, crossing his arms.  “Sam I just found Cas I’m not giving him up.”

“You don’t have a  _ choice _ , Dean.”  Sam’s outer facade is calm, but Cas can scent how anxious he is underneath.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Dean scoffs.  “I  _ should _ have a fucking choice, Sam.  It’s my life!” Cas can tell from the weary look in Sam’s eyes this is a conversation they’ve had before.

“This isn’t about that.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Dean grunts, and the legitimate fear that creeps into his scent beneath the anger startles Cas.  “You don’t understand... you’ll never understand what I…” Dean swallows hard, his eyes slipping closed when Cas tries to catch them.  There's something going on here, something he’s yet to tell Cas.

“I’m on your side-” Sam tries.

“Well it sure as fuck doesn’t sound like it,” Dean snaps.  The tension in the room is heavy, making Cas hold his breath for a beat while the brothers stare each other down.

“You know Dad won’t be alone, Dean.”  Sam’s voice is quiet. “He’s going to have guns, and he’s not going to hesitate to use them.”  Dean’s anger turns to bald fear, and Cas can’t help but be affected by it.

“He would...he would have me killed?” Cas breathes.

“If it came down to it, yes, he would.  And there’s no end of ways for him to put a legal spin it so people brush it off.”  Sam turns back to Dean. “If you want this,  _ really _ want it, for now you have to do this Dad’s way.”

 

“Fine,” Dean snaps, turning to Cas with apology written all over him.  The defeat in his scent breaks Cas’ heart.

“I’m so sorry,” Cas breathes, guilt washing over him.  

“Stop that feeling guilty crap,” Dean grunts.  “There ain’t a damn thing you did wrong.”

“What else can I do?” Cas asks, and Dean leans into him, resting their foreheads together and breathing deep.

“Sammy’s right,” he sighs.  “I have to leave, for now.” Cas holds him in a possessive grip, tucking him close.  

“Then what happens?” 

“We’ll have to figure that out when we get back to Central,” Sam explains.  “Look, after meeting your friend Charlie, I’ve gotta do some digging.” Cas bristles slightly, because Sam after all is Dean’s head of security.  “Not like that,” Sam amends. “I’ve been thinking the past couple days and... she may be onto something.”

“If you need anything,” Cas begins, and Sam nods with a smile.

“Don’t worry Cas, you’ll be the first one I call.”  Sam glances at his watch. “Dean, it’s time.” Dean nods, and Sam hesitates for a moment before leaving the room.  Dean’s scent turns dark, like he’s been holding it back until his brother left, hiding it from him.

“What’s wrong, Dean?”

“There’s just… there’s things that you still don’t know, things about my life...”  He’s speaking in a hushed voice, anxiety mixing with a fierce protectiveness. “I wasn’t supposed to meet my mate when I left,” he breathes, “things are so much more complicated now.”  Something in Dean’s voice, in the fear Cas can scent puts a piece of the puzzle together.

“You... you think you won’t see me again?”  The very idea is painful. Dean curses under his breath, trying to hide that part of his scent from Cas.

“You don’t know my family.”  Dean takes in a deep breath and it shakes on his exhale.

“Dean,” Cas‘ voice is stern, his hands cupping Dean’s face as he pulls his head up to meet his eyes.  “If I have to fucking crawl from here to Central I  _ will _ see you again.”  And he knows it, in that moment he  _ knows _ nothing is going to keep him from his mate.  

“Please,” Dean whimpers, tears in his eyes as he turns his head to bare his neck, and Cas knows what he’s asking him for: a bite.  Cas wants to, more than he’s ever wanted anything, but the thought of Dean suffering, being in agony because he needs his mate’s scent and Cas isn’t there…

“I can’t, my omega,” he soothes, kissing away those tears and blinking back some of his own.  “I don’t want you to suffer any withdrawal while we’re apart.” In a sudden decision, Cas scrambles upstairs, dragging Dean with him.  His room stinks of rut, another pain sparking in his chest at the scent of the two of them melded together. Bypassing the stained sheets, he dives into his hamper and finds one of his favorite hoodies, tugging it loose and handing it to Dean.  Dean’s eyes widen as he stares at the crumpled cotton.

“I… Cas-“

“Take it,” Cas insists, and Dean grasps it with shaking fingers, burying his nose in the sweater and breathing deep.  

“Thank you,” he sighs.  Tucking the sweater between his knees for a moment, Dean tugs off the over shirt he’d worn the first couple days at the farm, handing it to Cas.  “I don’t know how long it will last,” he shrugs, “since I was on blockers when I arrived-“ Whatever else Dean's going to say cuts off as Cas grabs Dean and pulls, burying his nose in Dean’s neck and hugging him close.  Dean’s fear is a physical presence in the room with them, and Cas wants nothing more than to keep coaxing until Dean tells him where it’s coming from.

“Dean,” Sam calls from downstairs.  

They don’t have enough time.  They had enough time to find each other, but now that Cas is in desperate need of it he has no time left.  He releases Dean, fingers reluctant to let go as the two of them walk downstairs. Dean's the one that pulls when they reach the bottom, tucking Cas close one more time.

“I’ll find you,” Cas promises, kissing Dean’s face, his neck, his jaw.  “I will find you.”

“You better,” Dean gasps, attempting a smile.  “Because in a couple weeks I’m going to need you to return the favor I did you.”  The promise of Dean spending his heat with Cas spurs his inner alpha on more, and he pauses to nip at the skin behind Dean’s ear.

“It’s a promise, my omega,” he purrs.  Dean pulls away, and Cas can physically feel the emotional ache it causes him.

Dean tears his eyes from Cas’ face and all but runs from the house.  Cas is rooted in place, doing everything in his power to keep from running after him.  He’s aware of Sam and Gabe talking before Sam’s scent leaves the farmhouse. Both cars in the driveway start their engines and pull away, leaving silence in their wake.

Cas staggers to the trash can in the kitchen and empties the meager contents of his stomach.

“I’m never leaving you out here alone again,” Gabe sighs from behind him.

“Gabe-“

“Castiel, I know I can be a prick, and I'm never serious about, well, anything.”  Gabe’s voice is sober, unusual enough it gives Cas pause. "But you’re my family, you’re more of a brother to me than a cousin.  I will find a way to help you see that hot little omega of yours again.” Cas manages a weak smile and pushes himself to standing.

Gabe sits him down with some hot tea and Dean’s shirt tied by the sleeves around his neck. His cousin coaxes him into eating some fresh fruit and one peanut butter sandwich, and Cas admits he feels better once he’s eaten.  He’s sipping at the last of his tea when Gabriel speaks up again.

“Michael called,” he says, his words slow like he's afraid to spook Cas.  “Said he’d be coming by later tonight to check in.” 

“Figured he might be.”  Cas pushes himself to his feet and walks his dishes to the sink.  “Guess I better go clean up.”

“Cas-“

“Thanks for lunch, Gabe.”  His thanks are genuine, and he smiles at his cousin before heading back up to his room.

The scent hits him like a punch in the gut.

It’s him and Dean, it’s sex and mates and everything he wants, but everything he should never have had.

He knows he needs to change his sheets, basic hygiene and all, but he’s unable to wash away their scents, not yet.  Instead he strips the bed, leaving the sheets piled on the floor and pulling new ones out of his closet. Everything inside him is  _ screaming  _ to go after his omega, but he can’t, so he makes his bed and flops down on top of it with a bitter sigh.  Cas grabs his phone, sending a text to the only other person who knows about any of this.

**> > He’s gone.**

He knows Charlie’s at work, but it doesn’t take long for her to reply.

**_< < Oh no! I take it his family found him?_ **

**> > How the fuck do you know so much??**

Her response takes a while, the little dots appearing and disappearing until finally words pop up on his phone.

**_< < I’ll explain, Cas, I will, but it has to wait till I see you in person._ **

**_> >_ ** **Seriously? I didn’t peg you for a conspiracy nut.**

**_< < Just trust me, okay?  I’ll come over tomorrow._ **

**> > I’ll go buy some bourbon, sounds like we’ll need it.**

**< <** **_Only a lot._ **

Cas sets his phone down at the sound of a knock on the front door.  Remembering what Sam said about Cas’ safety, his heart jumps into his throat, and he slides out of bed.  Careful to be silent, he moves into the hallway towards the stairs. When he recognizes his brother’s scent he relaxes, hurrying down the remaining steps to find Michael in the kitchen.

“Michael?” 

“Hey, Cas.”  Michael’s scent is full of concern, but he’s smiling at Cas.  “I wanted to check in on you, it’s not like you for your cycle to be out of sync.”  Cas accepts a hug, his brother’s beta scent familiar and soothing.

“I know it’s...it’s been a crazy couple of days.”  Cas looks over at Gabriel, who gives the slightest shake of his head.

“I was telling Michael it’s probably my fault, since I grabbed your meds on accident.”  Gabe is offering Cas an easy out, but this is Michael, and the lie doesn’t sit well in Cas’ stomach.  Still, until Charlie clears things up, he figures it’s safer for everyone to keep Michael in the dark.

“He’s right,” Cas huffs.  “I appreciate you coming all the way out here to check on me.”  Cas starts poking around in the fridge for something to eat, hoping Michael doesn’t press the issue.

“It’s no big.  In fact, it’s kinda nice to be out of the city right now.”

“Why’s that?” Gabe asks.

“Well, you know about the big protest, right?”  Michael looks between them for a moment before rolling his eyes.  “C'mon guys, there  _ is _ a world outside your little farm here.”  He pulls out his phone and slides it across the counter to Gabe.  Cas moves to look over Gabe’s shoulder.

It’s a video of a news broadcast, covering the huge crowd of people pressing in around the Speedrail station downtown. Cas does everything in his power to hide his scent and his facial tics from his brother as the news reporter explains what’s happening.

 

“ _ The cars, marked with the Chancellor’s crest and fresh off the train from Central arrived earlier this afternoon.  They were greeted with protesters as they returned to the station this evening. As word spread of their unexpected arrival, more and more people started flocking to the station, hoping their voices would be heard. _

_ The protest remained peaceful, many people simply calling out for the Chancellor to step down. To allow the district governments the ability to set up an elected body for governing the country.  Some, more angry than others, tried to stop the cars from reaching the ramp onto the train, but were moved by police.” _

 

“Holy shit,” Gabriel says as Michael takes his phone back.

“Exactly- Cas?!  You okay?” Michael moves to his side, and that’s when Cas notices he’s covered in a cold sweat, his body betraying him again.

“I, uh, I’m okay, I… I need a nap…”  Cas shakes his brother’s grip loose and stumbles for the stairs, ignoring the concern that follows his departure.  He manages to make it back to his bedroom where his and Dean’s scent still lingers. Cas shuts the door before sinking to his knees as he struggles to breathe with shaking lungs.

Dean was there, in one of those cars.  What if someone had brought a gun? What if there had been more violence? Cas’ body is wracked with guilt over not being there for his mate, and he knows the withdrawal is already starting.  He shudders again when he realizes Dean’s going to be going through  _ this _ alone, too.

Or worse, Dean won’t feel it because he won’t miss Cas like this.  The thought is a physical blow that leaves Cas dazed, blinking hard to try and focus on the room around him.

 

Unable to do much else Cas pulls himself onto his mattress and passes out.

  
  


**_***Dean***_ **

  
  


Dean wrinkles his nose at the strange, sterilized bleach smell of the motel room Sam has brought him to.  They're about an hour and a half away from the farm where he’s left Cas behind, and the distance is heavy on Dean's mind.  He already aches with how much he misses being wrapped in Cas’ warm scent, and is half tempted to turn around and go back.  But Sam already checked in with the security team on their way and told them where they’d be; it’s already too late.

“It’s to get you cleaned up, Dean,” Sam says to appease him, noticing his face.  “You know how Dad is going to flip if he—”

“I know, Sam,” Dean snaps.  Sam holds out the emergency bag he’d brought from home, and Dean snatches it from him. Dean opens it to find his blockers, a few changes of clothes, and his prescription strength, scent blocking body wash.  The implication turns Dean’s stomach.

“I don’t like it either, you know I’m on your side,” Sam says, “but if he smells him on you, Cas will never be safe.”  Dean scowls, storming off to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. Sam isn’t happy about this, Dean knows that without scenting him, but he’s the voice of reason Dean doesn’t want to listen to.  He needs to cover his tracks now, while they still have a few hours time.

And he’s gotten very good at it over the years.

Dean was careful to tuck Cas’ hoodie in the trunk of the Impala, hidden and safe.  He knows he can’t touch it again until they’re back home for fear of his father catching Cas’ scent while they're nearby.  He peels out of his clothes, chucking them in the trash and handing them out the door to Sam to get rid of. He starts the water, pausing to stare at himself in the mirror.  Most of Cas’ marks are already starting to heal, thanks to his own stupid “special” body chemistry. Even the darker bruises over his shoulders are fading. Dean looks down at the bottle of body wash in his hand, feeling the burn of regret in his chest.

The moment he smelled Castiel he knew he was lost.

The alpha was perfect, his scent, his body, and then Dean came to know his mind, as beautiful as the rest of him.  He should never have walked into that house, he should have turned around and stayed in his car. Maybe even pushed it further down the road so he wouldn’t have met Cas in the first place.

He could very well have signed Cas’ death warrant.

But Dean never got around to telling him. He never told Cas about the plotting and the politics behind every fucking move in the Chancellor’s manor.  He never mentioned to Cas the constant pressure from  _ everyone  _ to mate some of the  _ worst  _ alphas Dean’s ever met.  The thought of the constant parade of them coming through the mansion has his skin crawling. 

Not to mention what Charlie had known…

He trusts Sam. He knows that even as he’s showering his brother is turning off the Chancellor’s internet trackers and is researching the fuck out of Cas’ friend.

Dean didn’t tell Cas any of this because he didn’t have  _ time,  _ and Cas doesn’t know what could be coming for him.  Dean feels the bile start to gather in the back of his throat but he manages to keep his stomach from turning.

Dean climbs under the water, grabbing a washcloth and staring at the bottle in his hand.  He can still smell Cas on his skin, but the moment he starts washing he’ll lose him. He hates everything about this situation, but it has to be done.  Cas promised he’d find him, and he has to believe that.

Dean dumps a glob of body wash on the cloth and starts to scrub his skin, inch by inch, washing everywhere until his skin hurts, and then scrubbing some more.  His skin turns raw but he pushes through, paying extra attention to his neck and his shoulders. He makes sure there’s nothing left of Cas on him before giving himself a thorough rinse and turning off the water.  The clothes he pulls from his bag smell like his room at the manse, and he wrinkles his nose in distaste. He leaves the bathroom in a puff of steam to find Sam on the phone with someone. His posture is tense and his scent equal parts angry and worried.

“Yes sir.  I understand that, sir, but if you’d… He’s  _ fine,  _ he doesn’t need a babysitter… I get that but if you’d… he doesn’t have to… of course.”  He hangs up with a sound of disgust and turns to throw his phone on the bed. He sees Dean and immediately tries to drop the glare off his face, but Dean’s already seen enough.

“Dad giving you a hard time?” Dean sighs.

“No more than usual, which is odd considering the circumstances.”  He flares his nostrils, breathing deep. “You… wow I can’t even smell  _ you  _ anymore,” Sam says, a quiet sadness to his voice.

“How long?” Dean asks.

“An hour, more or less.”

“Right,” Dean sighs, popping his blockers and dropping onto one of the beds to try and collect his thoughts.  “Sam, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Sorry you have to be here to clean up my mess.”

“You… you were happy, for the first time in forever, you were smiling and relaxed.  I’ve never seen you like that before.” Sam’s shoulders drop. “Dean, I want to help.”

“I know you do Sam.”  Dean takes a shaky breath.  “It was kinda nice, being treated like any other person, you know?  And even when Cas found out he didn’t look at me like I was meat. He still treated me like a fucking person.”  Dean huffs, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.

“Whatever it takes, Dean, we’ll find a way.  That’s a promise.” Dean smiles weakly at his brother, and the determination in his scent.

“You can’t guarantee you’ll keep that promise,” Dean sighs.  Sam is about to object when the sound of multiple engines comes from outside their room. Dean steels himself and pushes to his feet, Sam following suit and taking up a protective stance in front of his brother.

The motel door opens and John Winchester walks into the room, his scent full of anger and indignation.  After Cas, the alpha scent of his father, even though he’s a blood relative, made Dean's hackles rise. His omega instincts want  _ his  _ alpha, no one else smells right. Luckily for Dean his father is unable to scent him, and isn't anywhere as good as Sam when it comes to reading Dean’s facial tics.  John sees anger on Dean’s face, and that Dean can deal with.

“What in the hell possessed you to go running off like that, boy?” John demands, pulling himself to his full height and glaring at Dean.

“I needed space,” Dean shoots back.  “Needed a little time on my own.”

“Damn it, Dean-“

“Look, can we get going?” Dean interrupts.  “You can rip me a new one on the way home.”

“No, you don’t get to dictate how this is gonna go!” John snaps.

“Why can’t he blow off some steam?” Sam interrupts.

“You know why.”  John’s voice is condescending, and Dean rolls his eyes.  Good to know his dad thinks so little of him.

“I was with him,” Sam points out, leveling a glare at his dad, angry alpha filling the room.  “His  _ head of security  _ was with him, there’s no need to blow this out of proportion.”  Dean's never been more grateful for his brother than he was right then.

“We loaded the Impala up on the truck,” one of the men calls from outside.

“What truck?” Dean growls.

“Take her away,” John calls back.  Dean shoves past his father and watches as a tow truck pulls away, his car hitched to the back of it.  “The  _ fuck _ ?!” Dean shouts, and the four remaining security guards who accompanied John actually shrink back from the force of his rage.  They may not be able to scent his rage, but they sure as hell  _ feel  _ it.

“Your car is on lockdown until you stop pulling shit like this and man up to what you were born to do.”  Dean’s in his father’s face, hands wrapped in his jacket as he shoves him against the doorframe of the motel room.  Anger swirls around them both, but Dean can tell his dad isn’t going to back down on this.

“Hey, Dean!  DEAN!!” Sam pulls him off of John before he throws any punches, and Dean glowers at John before he turns away. Silent and almost shaking with anger, he climbs into the back of one of the unmarked cars the security detail arrived in.  He can hear Sam and John arguing some more but he closes his eyes, trying to block it out. 

The car isn’t  _ just a car, _ it's a piece of his mom.  His grandfather had gifted it to him when he’d gotten old enough to drive, explaining how it used to belong to Mary.  It's a tiny piece of her that he’d gotten back, and the one tiny piece of freedom he’s held onto since presenting.

Not to mention Cas’ hoodie in the trunk.  The one scent link he has left to his mate.

His anger cools as it’s replaced with a longing he didn’t expect to feel only hours after leaving Cas. He’d give  _ anything  _ to start this day over, to be back in Cas’ arms wrapped in sheets that smell like the perfect combination of  _ them. _

The driver climbs into the car and starts the engine, and Dean glowers out the window in a brooding silence. It does’t miss Dean’s notice that the security detail his father chose didn’t include his usual bodyguards, who also happened to be his friends.  Benny is gonna be pissed he got left behind.

Their convoy makes it to the nearest Speedrail station only to meet with the usual group of protesters.  Dean sinks down in the backseat so he isn’t visible and closes his eyes, wishing he could climb out of the car and join them. He doesn’t want the Chancellorship any more than these people want to keep answering to one, but now isn't the time to try and tell people.  When the adrenaline is pumping through a crowd like this, anything can happen. He's popular among the general public, but he's not willing to trust that popularity to an angry mob. 

After some shouting and police intervention they’re finally moving forward again.  His driver navigates the ramp up to the train cars designed to carry vehicles. It’s not cheap to use these cars, but his family gets unlimited use of them, one of the few perks Dean actually wants, but now can't use. The metal clang of the door closing around the car and the engine turning off leaves a strange silence behind.  Dean climbs out of the car, following his security escort into the passenger section. The car is empty except for their group, so Dean flops down in the corner on one of the over padded seats. His escort stands a few rows away, giving him some semblance of privacy Dean is grateful for. Which he loses when Sam sits in the seat next to him, his scent determined.

“I did some digging."  Sam keeps his voice low, aware that they aren’t alone in this train compartment.  To his credit he doesn’t even flinch at Dean’s scowl. “This is big, Dean. Bigger than we thought.”  Dean's anger abates at the excitement in Sam’s scent.

“How big?”

“Like, Layla big.”  Dean is sitting up straight now, staring at Sam like he’s grown two heads, hoping he masks his fear.

“How do you-”

“Don’t worry about that,” Sam says, waving his hand to dismiss explaining how he knows Dean’s biggest secret.  “We have to do this careful, and quiet, but Dean… I think this will change  _ everything. _ ”

“Yeah, as in it could fuck it all up,” Dean whispers. “Don’t think the general public will wait to hear about how we hate our grandfather as they’re burning down the mansion around us.”

“That’s why I said we have to be careful,” Sam sighs.  “I need some time, and I know it sucks but you coming near beating the crap out of dad isn’t going to help give me that time.”

“I know.”  Dean scrubs his hands over his face, staring out the window as he’s pulled further and further from Cas.  “You have a month, Sam, maybe more. If you can’t figure something out by then…”

“I know.”  And Dean hears it in his voice.  Sam knows that no matter what, when his heat hits, he will fucking  _ walk  _ to Cas if he has to.

 

The Speedrail drops them off at the Chancellor’s mansion four and a half hours later, the sun starting to set over the horizon.  The installation of a private platform was overseen by his grandfather. Paid for with the excuse that it gives the Chancellor speedier access to the outlying areas of the country.  Dean's pretty sure it was to show off. Dean glances out the window of the train to see his grandfather waiting for them, and he groans under his breath.

“Be careful, alright?  Try not to piss him off too much?” Sam mutters.  Dean doesn’t bother answering. They climb off the train and step onto the platform behind the security escort, and Dean notes that John is already waiting next to Samuel.

“Dean, glad to have you back safe.”  Chancellor Samuel Campbell is an impressive man, tall and broad shouldered with his head shaved to hide his age.  Currently he’s using every bit of his physical size and his scent as an Omega to try and cow Dean into submission.  Usually it works, much to Dean’s resentment, his grandfather's dominance impossible to ignore, but this time…

_ It doesn’t. _

Dean's quick to drop his head like he usually does, but inside he’s reeling.  Is it something to do with Cas? Something about their bonding that changed him?  He’s grateful his blockers keep his scent from giving anything away. Dean catches Sam’s eye when he looks up again and he see the recognition on Sam’s face that  _ something _ is up.

“Sorry for running off, sir.”  He keeps his tone respectful. They’re still surrounded by security as they walk from the train platform down towards the manse, and gossip travels fast in this place.  Sam and John have fallen in behind them, and Dean can still scent the anger coming from his father. Samuel can too, he knows that, and as soon as they get to the building itself, Samuel puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“I need a moment with Dean, alone.”  John nods and with a final glare walks through the back door, Sam catching Dean’s eye before leaving them as well.  The security team disperses, leaving the two omegas alone. Samuel looks up at the house, taking a deep breath, and Dean can already feel the lecture coming on.  “You ever stop to look at this place?” His grandfather gestures with his arms to take in the manse as a whole, and Dean looks up as well. The building is old, and considering it's in Central is a feat in and of itself, with the tornadoes that plague the region.  It’s a huge, three story brick and stone building, multiple fireplaces giving the appearance of spires around the roof. A large open porch wraps around the front and sides, supported by huge columns. The back of the house leads down to where they’re standing now, the path to the train station surrounded by various gardens.

“I see it all the time,” Dean shrugs, not sure where his grandfather is going with this and not in the mood to play along.

“This building is hundreds of years old, built by Lucy Colt, the last Colt to live here after Chancellor Samuel Colt passed.  She wanted this place to be strong, to show people the Chancellorship was something they could rely on.” Dean decides not to mention the fact the original manse burned down two weeks after Edmund Campbell was named the successor.  Six key members of Colt's staff died in the fire, and the rumors among the workers always say the fire wasn't as accidental as it seemed.

“That was a long time ago,” Dean points out.  “The country was still wild and unknown. There was no way for the regions to communicate without going through the Chancellorship.”  Dean shrugs, leaning on the wall and looking out at the gardens. “Connections between different regions are easier now. Someone living in Northeast doesn’t need someone to tell them what’s wrong in Southwest like they did back then.  They can ask Southwest directly and offer their own help. Without us.” He can feel his confidence bolstered by his tiredness, and he can scent his Grandfather’s annoyance in return. This is an old argument, one they’ve been having since Dean had arrived almost 13 years ago.

“We have a responsibility to uphold this peace we’ve built here.  I will not throw this country into chaos because of you not taking this job seriously.”

“Peace?  Samuel, that’s complete and utter bullshit and you know it.”  Dean isn’t cowed by his grandfather’s glare, and he’s feeling a bit reckless so he pushes on.  “People are protesting in the streets wherever we go. It’s getting worse and worse because you’re sitting here and ignoring it, thinking it’ll go away.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, as much as you like to think you do.”  His grandfather’s anger thickens in the air between them, burning at Dean’s nose.

“All you’d have to do is call for elections, tell people you’re willing to work with them.  You would go down in history as a hero.” Dean’s pushing too hard, he knows that, but before Samuel can respond the door opens and Gwen Campbell walks out.  The two of them immediately reign in their scents and facial expressions, but Dean's beta aunt seems to sense the mood anyway.

“Dad, dinner’s ready.”  She glances at Dean with her typical disdain, her sharp features adding to the overall “bitchface” effect.  Gwen’s brother, Christian, was the original next in line for the Chancellorship, before he'd died from pneumonia.  Dean wasn’t sure if Gwen hated him for taking this job from her brother, or if she'd hated his mother and was passing that onto him.  From the day he arrived she’s been the biggest asshole to him. Dean’s cousins, her son Brady and her daughter Lilith, leave him alone for the most part and he doesn’t mind that one bit.

“We’ll continue this later,” Samuel says with a curt nod, and the security guard who was waiting inside the door steps out.  “For now you’re confined to your room.” 

“Wow, putting me in timeout, very effective.”  Dean rolls his eyes, pushing past Gwen and knocking into her shoulder when she steps into his path.

“Aw, poor little spoiled brat, whining because he’s being sent to his room.”  Her voice is high pitched and grating as she mocks him, and Dean doesn’t even bother hiding his contempt from the room at large.

“Enough, Gwen,” Samuel snaps, walking towards the dining room.  Dean turns from his aunt and heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time so the security guard has to struggle to keep up.  He shoves open the door to his room and slams it shut behind him. It looks the same as it’s always looked, a king sized bed in a simple oak frame, the walls painted in greens and the details done in the same color oak as the bed.  Dean kicks off his shoes as he takes a deep breath.

He coughs when he gets a hit of the scent in his room.

Dean didn't realize his scent from before he left was so… _ lonely. _

He doesn't have much time to think about that before there’s a familiar voice at the door.

“Yeah, well I’m here because his head of security told me to be, so kindly remove yourself from this location.”  Benny doesn’t even wait for the guard’s response before he opens Dean’s door and shuts it behind them. “You fucking moron,” Benny drawls with a smile, stepping forward to wrap Dean in a hug.  Dean smiles, giving his friend’s back a fond slap.

“Sorry, man, I couldn’t stay.”  

“Well you sure as hell pissed a lot of people off.”  Benny is grinning, the alpha one of Dean’s only true friends in this place.  When Dean moved into the house, Benny’s mom was one of the cooks. He’d met Benny one night in the kitchen when the both of them had gone downstairs to find some pie.  The two boys became fast friends, and when Benny was old enough he immediately started training to work on Dean’s security detail. His mother retired a few years ago, but every now and then Dean and Benny would sneak off to visit her; she does make the best damn pie Dean's ever tasted.  Even though he's an alpha, Benny’s scent is tolerable and familiar to Dean, and right now it's laced with amusement. “So what the hell happened that’s got your dad’s panties in a twist?”

“It’s a long story,” Dean sighs.  Benny drops down onto Dean’s desk chair, and Dean laughs.  “No, I’m not telling you here. Ears at the doors and all that.”

“Well that’s no fun.”  

“Sucks to be you.”  A knock on the door startles a laugh out of Benny and a ‘told you so’ smirk from Dean.  Dean opens the door and lets in one of the cooks, Andrea, pushing a cart containing what Dean assumes is his dinner into the room.  Benny immediately gets to his feet and moves to her side to ‘help’ her unload Dean’s tray onto the small table. Dean figures he’s actually hindering more than helping.  As their scents turn fond and happy, Dean decides it doesn’t matter; sometimes mates just get in each other’s way.

_ Cas. _

The pain hits him so hard his knees almost buckle, and Benny leaves Andrea’s side, grabbing Dean’s elbow and lowering him into the chair.

“Easy, brother, easy.”  He gestures at Andrea, and on Dean’s next breath he scents…

“What... how did you?!”  His eyes snap open to see Andrea holding out Cas’ hoodie, a sympathetic smile on her face.  Dean immediately grabs hold of it, and without worrying about his dignity presses it to his nose.  Every ache in his body abates, every tightly wound muscle relaxes. He doesn’t even care that he can smell Benny and Andrea’s amusement and curiosity, sucking in another noseful of  _ Cas _ .

“Sam didn’t tell me why, but he said to be careful I hide it and bring it to you when I took your food,” Andrea says in a soft voice.  “I sent Benny ahead to make sure Samuel wasn’t around.” Dean blinks hard.

“So… long story, huh?” Benny chuckles.  Dean’s too caught up in his emotions, gratitude towards his friends and relief at getting the hoodie, to answer, but Benny seems to understand.  Benny presses his hand against Andrea’s back and the two of them leave Dean alone. He ties the sweater around his neck and eats his food, finally hungry now that Cas’ scent has calmed his body.  Dean wasn’t aware his body was starting the withdrawal process already, distracted as he was by Samuel. Dean shudders when he thinks about how bad he might have gotten without the sweater around his neck.

He finishes his food and goes through the paces of getting ready for bed.  His mind wanders into thoughts of Cas, how he's feeling, if he’s handling the separation okay.  Unlike Dean who's surrounded by people he doesn't trust, Cas has Gabe, and the peace and quiet of the farm.  Not to mention his bedroom will carry the scent of their time together for at least a day or two. Dean misses Cas so  _ damn _ much, because even if they’d just met, it feels like Dean's known his soul forever.

Washed up and changed for bed, Dean unwraps the hoodie and slides it inside his pillowcase.  He climbs into bed on his stomach, face buried in his pillow, and immediately falls asleep.


	9. A Prisoner

**_***Dean***_ **

 

Dean wakes up with a start, covered in a cold sweat and clutching his pillow so tight it might burst.  He can’t remember much about the dream, only the scent of raw fear and the cutting ache of loss. It isn’t the first nightmare he’s had in the two weeks since he left Cas.

_ Two weeks. _

He untangles himself from his blankets and stands up, heading to the bathroom to shower and wash the stink of adrenaline off his skin.  He decided, partly in an act of rebellion, not to use his blockers. If he isn't going outside the manse he doesn't need them anyway, and he prefers to be able to know what's going on around him.

Samuel kept Dean confined to his room for three days, his only company Sam, Benny, and Andrea at meal time. After the third day Samuel had sent for him, explaining to Dean in no uncertain terms that he's not allowed to leave the mansion’s grounds. Instead Dean found himself forced to sit in on the advisory meetings with Samuel and his counselors.  Representatives from the different regions would ask for the Chancellorship's assistance with something. Samuel sends officials to review those requests, and upon returning make their report. It's tedious, wordy, and every part of politics Dean is horrible at.

But, in an unusual move for Samuel, in that very first meeting, he’d asked what course of action  _ Dean _ thought they should take. 

Dean was completely flabbergasted, and when he’d finally given an answer, Samuel had actually  _ agreed  _ with him.  Suspicious of what was happening, Dean did more research later that day about what it was he'd agreed to.  Turns out the officials misrepresented the problem to the counselors. What Dean thought was the best option for people was actually a middle ground solution, something to maintain the status quo.

The next time Samuel asked, Dean refused to answer. Samuel made the decision to put back fixing that particular problem for another three months.

He was training him, Dean realized, to play the game. In a weird way it was the most they’d bonded since Dean came to live there, and he's planning on asking Samuel about it before today’s meeting.

Dean's finishing getting dressed when the door to his room flies open with a bang. Four members of the security forces step inside his bedroom, stun guns leveled directly at Dean.

“Okay, what the actual hell?” Dean wonders out loud, putting some of his authority into his tone. The guards are all wearing blockers, which is normal for them, so even with Dean's nose he can’t get a good read of what’s happening.

Until his aunt walks in. She looks and smells distraught, but there’s something about her eyes, and a coppery sharpness to her scent that sits wrong in Dean’s stomach.

“Dean, there was an attempt on my father’s life today,” she says, her voice sounding strange, almost hollow.

“Well, what the hell are you doing  _ here _ ?” Dean wonders.  “Shouldn’t you be out, I don’t know,  _ looking  _ for them?  Or with him in the hospital?!”

“That’s precisely why we’re here.”  She waves her hand and Benny walks into the room, handcuffs out and a hard look on his face.

“Benny, what’s going on?” Dean demands, letting his full omega dominance out into the room.  The four guards tense up, and Gwen’s scent shifts into resentment, but all he gets off of Benny is regret.

“Dean, due to your recent unexplained absence, the counselors consider you to be a security threat.  You will be detained until that threat can be resolved.” His friend’s jovial voice is sober and monotone, his eyes refusing to meet Dean’s. The betrayal by Benny stings, but Dean catches in his scent that something is off, almost like he’s doing this because someone is forcing him to.

“To think you’d fraternize with the people who wish harm upon your  _ grandfather _ .”  Gwen’s voice is dripping with the utmost contempt, but this all feels so  _ wrong.   _ Something, some important piece to a puzzle is lingering outside of Dean's grasp.

“This is complete and utter bullshit and you know it.” Dean’s voice snaps like a whip, his scent so _demanding_ that Benny freezes where he's reaching for Dean’s hands with the cuffs.  The guards all take another step back from him.

“Not according to the counselors,” she shoots back.  Benny finally gets to Dean’s hands, cuffing them behind Dean’s back.  His scent is apologetic, and when he meets Dean’s eyes he sees Benny is suffering.  Benny doesn’t want to do this to Dean, and it takes the sting out of the perceived betrayal. 

Without another word Gwen turns away, and Dean, with his escort,  move through the mansion. Dean’s cheeks are burning with humiliation as he’s paraded through the building, hushed whispers following behind him. Sam intercepts them as they get to the front door where Dean can see a prison transfer truck waiting for them outside.

“Sir, you aren’t allowed to be here—“ one of the guards Dean doesn’t know starts to speak.  Sam rounds on him, full on  _ alpha _ , and the guy shrinks and bows his head. 

"I am still Dean's head of security, and I decide where I am or am not allowed to be."  The four guards all let out subdued  _ yes sirs  _ and step back to let Sam lead Dean through the back door. Sam waves away the guard standing by the door to the truck, and the man hurries away, leaving Sam to climb in the truck with Dean and Benny. 

“What the hell?!” Dean snaps as soon as the door closes.

“I don’t know!”

“No really, Sam, what the hell?!”

“ _ I don’t know! _ ” his brother repeats.  “Dean, there’s something real fucking weird going on. There are a hell of a lot of new guards I haven’t met yet working here, the guys who used to be around have either gotten new jobs or retired.”  The engine starts and the truck lurches into motion.

“What happened with Samuel?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know much.  There was an explosion at the luncheon he was attending, and it's pure chaos.  It’s a mess, Dean, and half of it doesn’t make sense.” A  _ bomb?   _ Dean’s stomach lurches.

“How many people-“

“Dean-“

“Sam, how many people died?!”  Sam runs a hand through his hair, one of his nervous tics.

“I don’t actually know.  All I know is it went off earlier than it should have, and that there were some injuries.  Like I said Dean, things aren’t adding up.”

“Yeah, like them blaming me.”  Dean’s gaze turns to Benny and his friend drops his gaze.

“Sorry, brother, going along with this was the only way to protect Andrea, and to stay close to you.”  Dean reaches out as best as he can to clasp Benny’s arm.

“I get it, Benny.  Can’t fault you for that.”  Dean closes his eyes, his wrists starting to itch from the cuffs.  “Where are we going?”

“The Bunker,” Benny says.  The words hang in the air, ominous and foreboding. 

"You're kidding, the bunker?  What the hell?"

"Don't know, Sam.  I ain't up on that paygrade, and they're obviously shutting you out, too."  Dean shifts where he sits, already feeling claustrophobic. The Bunker is an old bomb shelter, a panic room type complex built for the Chancellor to go to in times of crisis.  Even though most of it is office space now, the structure is still formidable. Once Dean's in… it isn’t going to be easy getting out.

They come to a stop and Sam opens the door to the truck, helping Dean out. In front of them is an unassuming metal door built into the side of a hill, an imposing concrete structure rising up behind it.  Dean's escorted by two new security guards they pick up on arrival, still flanked by Sam and Benny. They head down the metal stairs and into the fluorescent lit pseudo military fortress. There are men, books, and computers everywhere, some looking ancient and some brand new.  The scents are overwhelming and hard to sort out, but the overall impression Dean gets is  _ alpha. _  All the men in here are cocky and have something to prove, and it’s seeped into the very walls of the place. Even Sam can smell it, his nose wrinkling as they’re walked down a hallway towards what looks like a bunch of barracks rooms. At the end of that hall there are four rooms with reinforced steel doors, like in some crappy action movie's maximum security prison.  Dean’s let inside of one, furnished with a comfortable enough looking bed and a set of drawers, but not much else.

Benny, his scent worried, undoes his handcuffs and nods at Dean before leaving.  Dean rubs feeling back into his wrists, and he meets Sam’s eyes. His brother may be good at concealing his scent, but his eyes will never fool Dean.  Sam’s bald fear is genuine.

“I don’t have much time,” Dean whispers, aware they’re not alone.  “You know what’s coming, and you know what they’re going to try to do when it does.”

“I know.”  Sam looks disgusted at the concept, but he’s not stupid.  Dean’s going to go into heat soon, and in this place, surrounded by alphas... that isn’t going to go over well.

“I need him.”  Even after two weeks without saying so much as his  _ name _ , Sam just knows.  He nods.

“We’ll figure this out, Dean, I promise.” Sam steps out of the room, the door swinging shut behind him with a resounding thud, followed by an even louder silence.

_ Well, shit. _

 

After a week of isolation and interrogations, Dean’s still stuck in his tiny little room with no idea what the fuck is going on outside of it.  He's restless, unable to sleep much in spite of having nothing else to do but push ups, sit-ups, and waiting for food. He's already had his daily trip to the shower, the short hallway empty as usual aside from his guards.  Being too far away from the main room means he can't overhear anything either. Not to mention everyone around him is on blockers so strong it's like Dean's gone nose blind, something he's never experienced in his life.

Not having any news to go off of, Dean’s mind is free to start making up its own scenarios of what's happening outside his little prison. His most recent scenario involves Sam believing whatever evidence led to Dean getting arrested in the first place. Which falls right in line with his grandfather actually being dead and Dean in holding for formal murder charges. 

Dean stretches out on the bed, staring at the blank ceiling as his mind wanders right back to the same place it always wanders to.

_ Castiel. _

Dean hadn't intended to go radio silent on his alpha like this.  His intentions were for Sam to come up with a secure way for them to talk either via phone or Skype.  But Sam had been so busy when they’d gotten back he hadn’t had the chance, and then Dean got locked up like a fucking animal.  For all he knew Cas has completely forgotten him, or worse, pissed off enough to not care about what happened to him. Not that Dean would blame him if he was.  A part of him regrets Cas going into his rut because it took so much time away from them. Time Dean could have used to reassure him whatever was between them was  _ real,  _ not some fleeting scent bond of convenience. The shy way Cas would avert his eyes when Dean met them with his own, his stubbornness, his need to put Dean above himself.  Things Dean couldn't learn about him from scent alone are what he misses the most. Dean takes a deep breath as his melancholy starts to leak into the room, getting a hold of himself and his scent. 

The lock on the door clicks, the bars on the outside groaning as they're pulled back.  Dean closes his eyes with a sigh.

“Okay, fellas, I've finally come up with a new way to answer the same four questions you keep asking me.”

“Pity, I thought maybe we could try something new today.”  That’s a voice Dean’s never heard before and his eyes snap open as he sits up to face this new threat.  And that’s what he smells like, a threat. The fact that this man is confident enough to not use blockers like the others sends all sorts of red flags flying in Dean’s brain. He’s a shorter man, nothing too imposing about his physicality, but he exudes confidence, his hands adjusting the lapels of his expensive coat.

“Who are you?” Dean snaps.

“Name’s Fergus McCloud, but generally people call me Crowley.”   _ Crowley.   _ The head of all security for the Chancellorship.  Dean's only heard of him, a shadowy figure that lurks behind the scenes of everything.  He's been in charge for about five years, and even after all that time Dean has never met him… until now. People always seemed afraid of saying his name, like he could hear their whispered conversations in the hallways.  Dean bristles as his hackles come up.

Hell, maybe he could.

“Nice to meet you.”  Dean relaxes his grip on the edge of his bed, trying to remain calm on the outside even while his heart is pounding.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Well, Dean, who knew you had such nice manners.”  A guard brings a chair in, Crowley sits and crosses his legs, folding his hands in his lap as he watches Dean.  After not smelling anyone for seven days having this alpha here is doing weird things to Dean’s nose. It’s a harsh scent, abrasive and yet the fact that he can scent anyone again is also a relief. “It seems my men have been less than persuasive about getting you to tell them about your little field trip a few weeks ago.  Oh, and I'm referring to the truth, not the perfect little story you've concocted thus far.” Crowley is watching his every reaction with rapt attention, and Dean struggles to keep his face passive.

“That’s because there’s not much to tell.  Went for a drive, Sam found me, came back.”

“So you keep saying.”  Crowley leans forward, examining Dean in a way that makes him feel violated.  “The trouble with that is I don’t believe you. You see, you do my job long enough, you start being able to tell who’s lying.  It’s like a sixth sense.” Crowley fiddles with his cuffs on his sleeves, like he’s not even concerned about Dean at all. The change from the harsh examination to indifference is unsettling.  Dean realizes Crowley knows this, and when he realizes its a test it helps a little

“Well, maybe your sense, or whatever, is off, because I ain’t lying.”

“So stubborn,” Crowley sighs.  “Tell you what, you can tell me what really happened, and I can be very generous.  Fight me on this, and it'll force me to take some rather unpleasant steps to earn your cooperation.”

“Assuming I have anything to tell you,” Dean shrugs, even as panic starts to drip down his spine.

“Like Sam, for example.”  Everything in Dean’s body freezes.  “See, he is, if we get technical, under my employ- I can remove him from his job as easy as standing up from this chair.  Or I could even remove him from the region altogether. Ensure he never gets to come back without... _ violent  _ consequences.”  Dean’s blood goes cold at the threat, and the fact that Crowley could make it without even considering it a big deal.

“Sammy’s the one who brought me back, remember?  He did his job.” Dean plays up his confidence, but he can tell from the glint in Crowley’s eye that Crowley knows the threat got to him.

“But of course, Sam is very good at what he does.  Tell you what, you make a good point. I'll leave your brother to his work."  Crowley pulls out his phone, checking a message as Dean tries to mask the fear leaking out of his pores.  "Oh, sorry," Crowley sighs, like he forgot Dean was even there. "There’s this little farm down in Southeast I have some men on their way to visit.  I do hope they’re… gentle with whomever they find living there.”

_ Cas. _

Dean’s on his feet before he even feels himself moving, everything in him  _ screaming _ to protect his mate.  He doesn’t need to see the flash of victory in Crowley’s eyes to know the other man has won.

“Dean, Dean, Dean.”  Crowley tsks, shaking his head in disappointment.  “Getting more defensive of a complete stranger than your own brother.  Unless, of course, they’re not a ‘stranger’ anymore.” Dean’s trying to contain himself, but the way Crowley keeps getting everything right is setting his adrenaline pumping too hard to mask.  He  _ hates  _ that his own body is betraying Cas like this.  “Oh, dear me, did you... no, even you wouldn’t be so irresponsible to go and get mated like that?”  Crowley’s scent is filled with amusement, like he’s enjoying watching Dean fall apart. He snaps his fingers and two burly alphas walk into the room, taking hold of Dean’s arms even as he struggles to break free.  “We better get you down to the infirmary, make sure you’re, well, clean I suppose.” The last thing Dean sees is Crowley’s satisfied smirk as a third guard walks into the room with a needle. No amount of thrashing is helping Dean get loose, and after a pinch in his left shoulder the world fades to black.

_ Cas… I'm sorry. _

 

**_***Cas***_ **

 

Cas opens his eyes slowly.  His room comes into focus, bathed in the soft glow of dawn, looking the same as it always has.  The same furniture, the same paint, the same tiny hole in the wall.

The room may be the same, but Cas' entire world has changed. 

He closes his eyes again, wishing he could go back to that innocence when he opens them a second time.

He tucks his hand under his pillow, reassuring himself that Dean’s shirt is still there.  It's become a ritual, something he's done every morning for the past two weeks. Dean's scent is no longer on his shirt or in Cas' room, and Cas' body is free from his withdrawal symptoms.  If it wasn’t for his memories and the physical shirt he would have nothing to prove he’s ever met Dean Winchester.

What he’s learned from Charlie, however, has been a constant source of anxiety in the back of his mind.  There’s something to be said about learning a secret that can topple the entire government.

It had taken the better part of a week before what she'd explained to him really sank in for Cas. He'd laughed in her face, dismissing what she was saying as ridiculous conspiracy theories. Then she’d produced medical records and official internal reports bearing the Chancellor’s seal.  Those sobered Cas right up. Charlie was deadly serious, and he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't lie. She's the most thorough person he knows, there was no way she'd believe any of what she was saying unless it was absolutely true.

Cas wonders if Dean knew about any of it, or if his distance from his family growing up had kept it a secret.  Did they all know? Was Dean party to the cover-up, or was he an unwilling pawn? Cas didn’t know him as well as he might think, no matter what they shared between them during his rut. There's only so much of a person you can learn about in a week. Talking about life and experiences doesn’t make up for all the subtle things someone learns by observation over time.  What if it was sexual chemistry, and the emotion Cas had been feeling was a byproduct of that?

_ Was any of it real _ ?

Cas groans and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying and failing to shake his doubts. Until he sees or hears from Dean again, he knows they’re going to continue to plague him, there’s no use dwelling on them any longer than he has to.  He pushes himself out of bed, tugging on yesterday’s clothes and walking downstairs. Gabriel is sitting in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee, and tosses Cas a half hearted wave. Gabriel doesn’t flinch when Cas comes downstairs anymore, by now he’s grown used to the permanent bitter tone to his scent.

“You gonna work today?”

“I mean, I guess.” Cas sighs, pouring himself a cup of coffee and adding some sugar.

"Cas, you can't keep moping like this.  It doesn't help anyone's situation get better."  Cas ignores his cousin, sipping at the scalding liquid.  Gabriel's disapproval is evident in his scent, but Cas ignores it.  Without hearing from Dean or Sam, there's nothing Cas can do but wait, and he hates the helpless feeling.  He finishes the last of his coffee as his phone starts vibrating in his pocket.

“Calling to nag already?  It’s not even time for work yet,” he answers with a sigh.

“Cas!  Oh my god you’re okay!”  Charlie's voice is frantic, laced with urgency and genuine fear.  Cas immediately bristles, Gabe's eyes snapping to him when Cas' scent sharpens.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Someone tried to kill the Chancellor.”  He hears muffled shuffling, like she’s shoving things in a bag and moving around as she talks.

“What?!”  Cas’ anxiety goes from zero to 100 in an instant.  The scent makes himself choke.

“Yeah, a bomb.“

"Holy fuck."  Cas' stomach drops into his feet.

"I guess it wasn't as bad as they thought..."

“What about Dean?!” 

“They haven’t said anything, only that the Chancellor’s niece Gwen is taking over."  No news of Dean could be good news, or very bad news. Cas is saved from losing himself down that rabbit hole when Charlie continues talking.   "Cas something weird is going on. A couple of my contacts have gone radio silent, and not in the good way. If their computers were hacked, they… Cas the cops are gonna see that they’re in contact with me and that I’m in contact with you.  Add that together with the location they found Dean…”

“Charlie, I- what does that even mean?!”  Something cold slips down his spine, the coppery scent of panic flooding the room.

“It means there’s a lot I haven’t told you.  I was planning on it, you know, before my world started imploding.  I had this whole speech written up and everything but I was working on something else and didn’t have a whole lot of time.”  She’s rambling, which is a huge warning sign when it comes to Charlie.

“What- what should I do?”  Cas hates that he's whimpering like a scared kid, but he's in way over his head.

“We can’t wait for them to come to us, we need to get ahead of this.”

“Get ahead of this?  How?” This whole time Gabe's been staring at Cas with increasing levels of concern in his scent.  As Cas' panic hits its peak, he snatches the phone from Cas’ hand, putting it on speaker and setting it on the counter.

“What do you need, Charles?”

“We need to leave, now.”  Cas can hear typing on her end of the call.  “I’m buying us some time with two fake tickets for the next Speedrail north.  Figure we’ll drive instead.”

“Drive where?”

_ “ _ Well we live in the furthest south part of Southeast, nowhere else to go but north.”   _ Closer to Dean… if he’s okay. _

“Okay, no more details.  If they show up I don’t want to give you away.”  Gabe looks up at Cas, projecting a calm confidence into his already mild beta scent.  “I can’t leave the farm, not without drawing attention, so you guys go on ahead and I’ll do what I can here.”  A fondness for Gabe helps push back Cas' panic.

“Gabe, you don’t have to-“ 

“Of course I do,” Gabe scoffs, waving away Cas’ concern.  “Someone has to stall the cops, and then I’m sure you’ll need me to rescue you eventually.”

"Our knight in shining armor."  Charlie's voice sounds more calm as well, knowing that Gabe has their backs seems to have put her at ease.

"You know it."  Gabe grips Cas by the shoulder, winking at him.  Cas can't put a voice to his gratitude but by the way Gabe smiles he sees it. 

“Okay Cas, I’m on my way to get you.” Charlie sounds a bit less scared and more determined now, and Cas pushes away his own fear.  He needs to focus on getting somewhere safe, so he can focus on finding out if anything happened to Dean.

“I’ll be waiting.” He pockets his phone, sprinting upstairs to throw a couple changes of clothes, and a few other essentials in his bag. After a brief hesitation he tosses in his prescription body wash, feeling like he'll need the anonymity if they're going to be on the run.   _ On the run.  _ Cas only pauses a moment to wonder how this has become his life before he zips up his bag, taking one more glance around his room for anything he might have missed before he heads back down to the kitchen.  Gabe is holding out his bottle of blockers, a bag of apples and a handful of other non-perishable snacks in his other hand.

“My baby cousin all grown up and becoming a fugitive of the law.”  Gabe is grinning, and Cas manages a smile.

“Funny, I always figured of the two of us you’d be the one going to prison.” Cas shoves his meds and the food in his bag to keep from looking at his cousin, a man who’s given him a home where no one else would.  Gabe’s scent is a steady constant, not without worry but definitely less panicked than Cas’.

“Fugitive- means you don’t get caught, smart ass.” 

"Are you gonna be okay?" Cas asks.

"Who me?  Cas, I invented getting into trouble, you bet your ass I know ways to get out of it."  Gabe's smile fades into a more serious look. "Look, Cas, I don't know a lot of the how and why we wound up here, but I do know this.  You're made of tough stuff, ain't no one I know who is better built to handle this than you." Cas clears his throat of the sudden emotions lodged there, and the two of them sit in an anticipatory silence while they wait for Charlie.  The sound of a car horn comes from outside and Gabe pulls Cas into a brief hug before shoving him towards the door. 

“Go on, get.” Cas hurries outside where he expects to see Charlie’s yellow hatchback, but instead finds an older, white Toyota Corolla instead.

“Did you steal a car?” Cas wonders out loud as he shoves his things in the backseat, climbing into the passenger seat.

“It’s Dorothy’s, but she’s been using her motorcycle so much lately she said I could have it.”

“Like, your ex-girlfriend Dorothy??”

“Maybe not so ex? Also we don’t have time for this Cas!” she reminds him.  Charlie shoves a map into his hands. “Okay, navigator, do your thing. We want to avoid major highways, look for back roads and side streets.”

With Cas’ tentative instructions leading the way they start heading north, the car silent except for Cas' calls for left or right turns. Cas feels like they're hardly making any progress, Charlie’s insistence on using roads less traveled also means more travel time.  Time that Cas doesn't feel like they have. They finally find an older highway that runs straight for a good 80 miles, so Cas is able to think about something other than navigation for a bit.

"Well, we've sure found ourselves in one hell of a mess."  Cas is trying to make light of the situation, but his scent belies his words. 

"Technically, you kinda brought this upon yourself.  Shows you what you get for inviting strangers in to spend the night."  Charlie's words are kinder than they sound, and Cas smiles.

"I've learned my lesson this time."  The pine trees and palmetto fronds that flank the road rush by in bright shades of green, and Cas' heart aches.  “What do you think is happening in Central?” he wonders. 

“I don’t know, Cas.  I couldn't even hazard a guess.”  She glances at him, sympathy in her scent.  “And I know, you're worried about Dean.” Cas lets a few minutes of silence pass before he speaks again.

"I don't want you to be right about him knowing."  Cas' scent is bitter to his own nose, heavy with uncertainty. 

"I don't want it either, Cas.  But you need to be prepared." 

"If he's even alright."  Charlie winces as the pain spikes in Cas' scent, and Cas closes his eyes to breathe deep, trying to clear it.  "Sorry, Charlie."

"Cas don't, I get it, okay?  We're both dealing with a lot of shit right now."  He nods and turns his gaze out of the window again, no longer seeing much of anything.

“I need to see him.  Even if he-" Cas' voice catches in his throat, and he coughs to clear it.  "I need to know.”

“Then we'll find a way to get you to him."  Charlie's confidence doesn't quite reach her scent, but he appreciates it all the same.

After a few hours they switch off and Cas takes a turn driving. Charlie’s navigation goes much better than Cas', and they’re nearing the South Central border as the sun drops below the horizon.  Charlie insists they take a small break to rest, and Cas reluctantly agrees. They manage to find a small, dingy, cash only motel that doesn’t even have security cameras in his lobby. Cas figures by the smell of several substances he doesn’t want to identify that the regular clientele didn’t need protecting aside from the firearms they themselves were carrying. 

Terrified to even touch the ancient comforters on the beds, Cas and Charlie unfold the oversized sleeping bags she packed, laying them out on top of the mattresses. They freshen up, brushing their teeth with water from a bottle, and settle onto their makeshift beds.  Exhaustion catches up with Cas and he drifts off into an uneasy sleep.

 

Cas wakes up feeling like he'd only just fallen asleep, Charlie's phone ringing out a shrill tone into the room.  Rolling over in his sleeping bag, he watches her bend over the side of the bed to grab for it. The clock on the side table lets Cas know he'd gotten four hours of sleep, which is something at least.  Charlie sits up, confusion on her face as she answers.

“Who is this?”

“Hey uh, is this Charlie?”  Cas can hear the man’s voice through the earpiece in the silent room.  “It’s Sam.” Cas sits up too, and Charlie puts the call on speaker, her scent flabbergasted.

“Sam?!  How did you get this number?”

“Not legally."  Charlie and Cas share a surprised look as Sam barrels on past breaking the law.  "Hey listen, I need you to get a hold of Cas for me.”

“I’m here, Sam,” Cas calls.

“Oh, man, am I glad to hear your voice.”  Sam’s relief is evident even through the phone call.  “Look, I’m sure you guys heard about what happened yesterday-”

“Is Dean okay?!” Cas interrupts.

“Kind of, which is why I’m calling.  My grandfather survived, but they’re trying to pin this on Dean, and the unauthorized vacation he took.”  Cas’ scent swirls into this weird mix of relief and worry and Charlie wrinkles her nose at him.

“I'm assuming Dean didn’t actually try to kill his grandfather, right?” she asks, and Cas glares at her for even suggesting it.  She gives him an apologetic shrug.

“They’ve had him under such strict surveillance since he got back they probably know how many brush strokes he uses to brush his teeth.  There’s no way they legit think he’s behind this.”

“So what can we do?” Cas asks.

“Get the hell out of dodge for one thing,” Sam says.  “They’re going to be retracing Dean’s steps right back to you.”

“We’ve already left,” Charlie says, a little pride in her voice at her ingenuity.  “Gabe’s still at home but he does have the perfect alibi.” Cas sighs, grateful yet again for Gabe’s trip to Plant City.

“They’re holding Dean at the Bunker,” Sam goes on to explain.  Cas looks at Charlie but she shrugs.

"Don't know what that means, Sam," she points out. 

“Oh  right.  It’s an old underground shelter of sorts, like a panic room built for a hundred people.  It serves as the main offices for security now.” Sam sighs heavily, tension in his voice.  “I don’t know how we’re going to get him out.”

“Let me at the blueprints, I’ll find a way.”  Charlie infuses her words and scent with as much optimism as she can muster, and Cas nods in encouragement.  “Keep us updated, okay Sam?”

“I will.  And hey, Cas?”  Some nerves tickle Cas’ stomach, wondering what Sam’s about to say.

“Yeah?”

“He… Dean  _ needs _ you, Cas.”  The words hang there in the room and Cas’ doubts, while not entirely gone, also don’t seem as pressing anymore.

“Thanks Sam.”  Charlie ends the call and gets up to gather her things.  There isn’t a chance either of them are going back to sleep now, anyway.  

Dean’s okay.  He’s in trouble but he’s not hurt, and Cas can focus on that.

_ I’m coming Dean. _


	10. The Truth

**_***Dean***_ **

 

Dean blinks his eyes open, trying to get his world into focus through the bright white light.  He can’t move, his muscles not responding when he tries, and everything is hazy. It smells sterile, metallic and sharp.  He hears movement to his left but when he tries to turn his head the world starts spinning and he closes his eyes.

When he opens them again the light is gone, faded into a darker grey haze.  He can see blurry tiled walls and medical equipment, and the faint copper scent of blood swirls in the air.  Trying to move his arms, the cut of leather straps into his skin draws his eyes downward. The source of the blood scent becomes apparent, a needle in his arm hooked to a machine, the slow drip of his blood flowing down the clear tube.  He tries to move his legs only to find they're tied down as well. Blinking some more of the haziness from his head, he looks around the room. One door on the far wall, and a mirror covering the one across from it. He's not stupid, it's got to be a two way mirror with a room on the other side.  His shirt’s been stripped off and his jeans replaced with thin hospital pants. Closing his eyes against the feeling of violation, he tries to get in some deep breaths to clear out whatever sedative they injected him with. 

The door opens and the white light comes up again.  Tears fill Dean’s eyes at the sudden brightness but he opens them again as fast as he’s able.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Dean demands, his own voice causing his head to throb. The doctor’s face hides behind a medical mask, and his scent is non-existent except for the scent of whatever antibacterial soap he used.  “Listen, just-  _ OW!”  _ The doctor isn't careful when he removes the needle from Dean's arm, some blood running down his skin to drip onto the floor. Almost as an afterthought the doctor tapes some gauze over the wound, turning to collect the drawn blood from the machine. “My grandfather, please, tell me...”  The doctor turns around with another needle in his hand, and Dean fights against his restraints. “C'mon, answer me, please-  _ ngh. _ ” The not so gentle pinch of the needle in his shoulder is immediately followed by a heaviness in Dean's limbs and mind.  The light turns off as the doctor leaves and no matter how Dean struggles to stay awake, his eyes fall closed again.

The next time Dean wakes the lights are all off in the room aside from the red tinged emergency lights in the corner.  He tries to get a bearing on his surroundings but there’s a thick fog in his head and he can’t bring the world into focus.  His eyes drift down to see an IV attached to him, and that he’s still bound to the table. The silence breaks with a resoundingly loud thud from outside that sets his head pounding, and Dean struggles to keep his eyes open. The door bursts open with another loud crash, and Dean can feel tears in his eyes as his world is reduced to the throbbing in his head.  He’s aware of voices and movement, but every one of his senses feels sluggish and dull. He feels the IV ripped from his arm and his limbs released from the leather straps, at least one pair of hands on his legs. He knows he should struggle but it’s like his arms are too heavy for his muscles to lift. He sucks in a deep breath, thinking if he could get some more air into his lungs it might help clear his mind.

The scent wafts over him, making him dizzy for another reason.

_ Castiel? _

It smells like Cas, but that doesn’t make any sense, there's no way for Cas to be there... unless Crowley made good on his threats. He's almost relieved as the darkness pulls at him again, the nothing of unconsciousness better than the ache of guilt.

 

This time as Dean wakes up everything feels completely different.  For one, he can tell he’s on an actual bed, with a plush mattress and pillows, and his limbs are no longer bound.  When he breathes in, the scent of woods, nature, and comfort hit him instead of the sterile medical smell. He opens his eyes and finds himself staring at a poorly painted ceiling, held up by walls covered in thirty year old wallpaper.  The natural sunlight in the room is a deep orange, and Dean figures it’s close to late afternoon. He waits for his head to clear before rolling onto his side, taking a good look around at the room he’s found himself in.

He  _ recognizes _ it.

Awareness of where he is versus where he was helps clear his head some more.  Dean sits up, careful not to upset his fragile equilibrium, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He’s still shirtless and wearing the hospital pants, but there's clothes sitting folded on a chair next to the bed.  He carefully stands up, taking the thin cotton pants off and pulling on the jeans. They're bigger than his which means they're borrowed, but they fit well enough he's not worried about them falling down. He grabs the tshirt to pull over his head, pausing to press his nose to the fabric when he goes to pull it on.

It smells like Cas.

The scent washes over him, and he breathes deep to make sure he isn’t imagining it. The mellow alpha scent is unmistakable, and Dean relaxes, finally feeling  _ safe  _ after who knows how long.  Cas kept his promise, he came back to Dean.

His body finally wakes up completely, endorphins responding to his mate’s scent and clearing his head.  Dean walks over to the door, pulling it open and making his way down the hallway towards the stairs.

“We have to wait for him to wake up,” Sam is saying as Dean reaches the first floor and turns for the study.  It's funny, even after all these years he still knows this house well enough to walk it in his sleep. Even the feeling of the hardwood floors under his feet is familiar.

“I know I’m just-” Cas’ voice cuts off on a gasp when Dean steps into view. His alpha is looking disheveled, stubble covering his face and dark circles under his eyes, but the way those blue eyes light up when they see him sets all sorts of warm feelings dancing over Dean’s skin. His heart is pounding faster than it should be after what he's gone through but his mate he never thought he'd see again is standing right in front of him. Cas doesn't move towards him, his entire body rigid with what Dean hopes is similar emotions to what he's feeling.

“Hey, Cas.”  Dean’s voice is hoarse, and he has to cough to clear it. 

“Hello, Dean.”  Cas’ voice trembles somewhat.  “How are you feeling?”

“Better.  Thanks for the clothes.”  Cas’ cheeks turn a little pink but he smiles and Dean will take it.  Dean can’t actively scent Cas, and he realizes Cas must be back on his blockers. From the way Cas seems to be trying to scent the air Dean realizes Crowley must have injected him with blockers while he was unconscious.  The thought sobers him some, muting their reunion. Dean's also aware that the doors that separate the study where from the kitchen are wide open, and they’ve got an audience. Sam walks in and leans on the wall next to the bookshelf on Dean's left.

"Hey, Dean."  Sam's scent and smile are pure relief, and Dean nods at him with a grateful smile.  Looking past his brother Dean can see Charlie sitting at the table in the kitchen. She's grinning at Dean, her scent a brighter tone than everyone else's, which at the moment is very much a good thing for everyone's mood.  Dean's eyes make their way back to Cas', and they get stuck there, not that Dean's complaining.

"Sorry I made y'all have to come fetch me," Dean says, trying for an offhanded tone to hide the emotion threatening to overwhelm them.

“I did make a promise."  Cas' lips quirk up in a small smile, and Dean's heart aches with a good kind of pain.

"That you did."  Dean's eyes don’t leave Cas’ even though he’s addressing his brother.  "Sam, why are we at Bobby’s? This place isn't exactly a secret from everyone.”

“Because you idjits like causing me a whole load of grief.” Bobby Singer’s voice coming from behind him is enough to pull Dean’s gaze away from his mate, and he turns around to wrap the older man in a hug. On the surface Bobby smells like his favorite whiskey, but his actual scent underneath it speaks of Dean's childhood and home. “Wish you could have come here under better circumstances,” Bobby huffs, “but you’re here now and we’ll have to figure this shit out.”

“What’s going on?  I've obviously been a little out of the loop.”  Dean pulls away, looking from Bobby to Sam and back to Cas.  The three of them exchange looks, like they’re trying to decide how much to tell him.

“Samuel is still alive.” Sam sighs, and Dean's worried if that's the basis for what's going to be good news.  “Gwen has assumed the responsibilities of the Chancellorship. She’s using the attack to take control of all the police forces in the country.  People are basically under martial law now without even realizing it happened.”

“But who was behind the attack?”

“That’s the hard question, isn’t it?”  Dean turns towards Charlie, her computer propped open in front of her. “None of the free democracy groups want anything to do with it, and the only other people with a big enough grudge against your grandfather didn’t do it.”

“Who’s that?”  Dean's question is met with silence scents ranging from discomfort to worry.  Sam looks at Bobby for help and it raises a red flag in Dean's mind.

“Let’s get some food and water in you, then we’ll talk.”  Bobby’s jaw is set and his scent matches. Dean would argue but years living with Bobby taught him that it would be pointless.

“I’ll make you something,” Cas offers in a quiet voice.  Dean follows Cas from the study into the kitchen proper. The pocket doors close behind them, and before Dean can ask what's going on Charlie is on her feet and halfway out the door.

“It's time for a break anywhere but here!"  She tosses a grin over her shoulder as she closes the kitchen door behind her.  He and Cas are alone and… oh. Dean feels his heart rate tick back up again, a nervous energy in the room even though he can't smell Cas.

“Subtlety is not one of her strong suits.”  There's a blush on Cas' cheeks as he pulls some leftovers out of the fridge.

“No, I guess not.”  He watches Cas for a few minutes as he makes up Dean’s plate, his fingers aching to reach out and touch but something in Cas’ body language giving him pause.  Dean wishes desperately he could scent him right now, could figure out what’s going through Cas’ head, but he’s getting nothing. “You’re on your blockers?”

“Yeah, one dose.  Easier to get to you.  You are too?”

“Not on purpose, must have dosed me up when they…”  Dean clears his throat, his hand moving to cover the bandage on his arm. 

“Bobby told me about how you know him,” Cas changes the subject, putting the plate in the microwave to heat up.  Cas glances out the window and Dean follows his gaze. The junkyard around Bobby’s house looks about the same as Dean remembers it, as well as the stretch of forest beyond. Things are a little more rusty, but it's familiar and he's tempted to go hide in one of his childhood hideaways until this is over.

“Yeah, mom, um, when they left Central, Bobby let them stay at a cabin on the back of his property.”  Dean points out the window, he knows his feet would remember the path to this day. “And when she passed, Bobby helped my dad take care of us until… well, until I happened anyway.”  Silence falls between them as Cas works, and Dean shifts on his feet. “Thank you, for coming for me.”

“I didn’t think you’d care if it was me.”  Cas says the words slowly, like he’s unsure he should even be saying them.  Cas' shoulders are set in a tense line, Cas braced on the counter by the palms of his hands.  “I didn’t know if any of... if it was real or not. Well, real enough for you to miss me, anyway.”

“Cas of course it was real.” Dean doesn't know what to do with his hands, so they tug at the hem of the shirt he's borrowing from the man who  _ didn't think Dean cared about him _ . 

“I knew, when I found out who you were.  I knew I would have to give you up, and I told myself that was fine, that I’d be fine.”  The microwave beeps, and Cas pulls the plate out. “I guess I’m just not that strong an alpha.” With a painful jolt, Dean realizes that for all his talk about his own mistreatment because of his gender, he was doing the same to Cas.  He'd gotten so caught up in his head he forgot the loneliness in Cas’ scent when he talked about his condition. How Cas felt so rejected by anyone who’d ever known him.  _ Of course _ he was going to have doubts about Dean’s intentions.

“Cas... I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”  Cas walks over to the table and sets Dean’s plate down, his eyes downcast.  “Dean, you had no idea this was going to happen, you had no control over any of it.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to reach out to you when I left.  I’m sorry I left you alone. And now here you are, in the middle of all this fucked up nonsense because of me.”  Dean watches, his heart aching with guilt as Cas rubs at a bruise on his lower arm. “Look at me, Cas.” Cas does as he’s told, hesitant blue eyes meeting his.  “What I’m feeling, right now? This…  _ longing, _ to reach out and hold you?  It’s got nothing to do with your scent, and everything to do with who  _ you  _ are.”  He steps in closer, bringing his hands up to rest on Cas’ shoulders.  “I missed you, the moment I walked out your door. Not your touch, not your scent,  _ you. _ ”  Cas relaxes, leaning forward into Dean’s chest, his head resting on Dean’s shoulder.

“I need you,” Cas whimpers, vulnerable and raw and it makes Dean’s chest twist in on itself.  "I don't care if that makes me weak." Dean wraps his arms around Cas, holding him close and burying his nose in his hair.  He can detect a small trace of Cas' scent, and he sucks it in.

“You're not weak, Cas.  And you're not the only one who  _ needs _ .”  As Cas starts to relax in his arms, he stiffens again, pulling back to look up at Dean in sudden alarm.

“You didn’t, I mean, Charlie was worried that if you had they’d force you...”  Cas falters to a stop, and Dean feels himself smile.

“No, Cas, my heat hasn’t come yet.”  Cas’ cheeks turn bright red, but his smile is broad and genuine.  Dean presses a kiss to his forehead before turning to sit and eat the food Cas warmed up for him.  It’s comfort food, roasted potatoes and chicken, and it warms Dean from the inside out. Cas drops into the chair next to him, and Dean doesn’t care that Cas’ proximity is making it difficult to eat.  He's half tempted to sit in Cas' lap as it is.

“So, a lot has happened,” Cas sighs.  “I’ll admit I’m a little scared about all these changes.”  Dean knocks their knees together with a gentle tap.

“Hey, me too, honest.”  He offers Cas the best smile he can muster.  “But we’ve got each other now, right?” Cas nods, and they fall silent as Dean finishes eating.  It's comforting, feeling the warmth of Cas' body heat against his side, the brush of fingers or a leg.  It's enough that Dean doesn't feel alone anymore.

Bobby walks in as Cas is cleaning Dean’s dishes. 

"Now that you've got some food in you, I figured we'd better get down to business."  Bobby walks up to the table, setting down a large yellow envelope. It's old, the paper definitely shows signs of age, and someone has written his name on the front in a flowing script.

"What's this?"

“Something I should have given you sooner.  It's gonna give you more questions than answers, but it's where we should start.”  Dean frowns, picking up the envelope, opening the seal and removing a few sheets of paper.  It’s a letter, and Dean realizes he recognizes the handwriting.

“Is this...from my mom?”  Cas chooses that moment to shut off the water at the sink, and Dean's words fall flat in the silence of the room.

"She left it for you."  Bobby's scent shifts into regret.  "I should have given it to you before your daddy took you away, but... Well, you'll see why."  Bobby gives Dean a weird, sympathetic look before he turns for the door. "We'll be in the study when you're done, take your time." Dean runs his fingers across the surface of the paper, the pads of his fingers tracing the words his mother wrote.  Cas approaches from behind, resting a damp hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“If you...if you want to be alone I can go."  Dean reaches up, putting his hand on Cas’ and tugging in silent invitation to stay.  Cas drops back into the chair next to him, and Dean picks up the letter.

 

_ My dearest Dean, _

_ While I’m writing this you’re playing with your hot wheels on the kitchen floor. You’ve got them absolutely everywhere and I know I’m going to have to fish a couple out from under the fridge before the night is over. _

_ Your sibling is coming soon, and even with reassurances from the doctor, this isn’t going to be an easy birth.  I guess this is my insurance policy, a way to tell you everything if something keeps me from doing it myself. _

_ Your grandfather, whom you haven't met, is the Chancellor.  Growing up in the governor’s manse wasn't the warmest childhood.  Not that my parents don’t love me, but we were always being groomed, posed for the public.  It was tough, especially when all we wanted to do was be kids. Oh, yes, I have a sister, her name is Gwen.  And my brother's name was Christian. He was in line to become the next Chancellor. _

_ When I turned 18 I met your father, and I immediately fell head over heels for him.  He was an Alpha’s alpha, but he could be so tender and I couldn’t resist his smile. Your grandfather didn’t approve; John was a mechanic who worked in our motor pool, not from one of the families I was supposed to choose from. _

_ So when I turned 21, we ran away. _

_ We were young and confident, and were so proud of ourselves.  Samuel tried to get me to come back, of course, but he had Christian and I figured he didn't need me.  So John and I disappeared, sneaking away till I found a small cabin for sale on the back of Bobby’s property.  _

_ We made do, we had chickens, a vegetable garden.  We had our own little home and a peaceful life we'd built for ourselves.  It was as close to perfect as one's life could be, and for two wonderful years I was happy. _

_ Then Christian died. _

_ People talked in hushed whispers about how sudden and unusually strong the illness was.  The whispers became loud enough to reach me here and yet I didn't listen. I didn’t consider that my brother had died from anything other than pneumonia.  _

_ And I also I didn’t think about the fact that when you were born a year later that you could bear the mark.  That birthmark on your arm, the one you like to color over with your markers? It's a sign that you're going to be Chancellor someday. _

_ Bobby has warned me that they’ll come for you, but I’m not going to let them take my baby from me.  So we’ve made plans, come up with contingencies, and all under your father’s nose. He doesn’t know about the mark, not many people do, so he doesn’t know you’re an omega. _

_ There are a lot of things people don’t know. _

_ And I think that's the real reason I'm writing this letter to you, Dean.  Because I really believe now, more than ever, people need to know. _

_ Hiding in the woods around our cabin, and in many other places in the country, there lives a community of people our great great grandparents have spent decades pretending don’t exist. A group of people who were scorned, hunted, tortured with medical experiments and treated like lesser beings. _

_ The omegas. _

_ Yes, Dean, there are more omegas than you and your grandfather. There are large populations of them out there, living in the shadows, hiding from people that would persecute them or use them.  I’m not sure how many communities there are around the country, but there are enough. Omega births didn’t stop completely like history says, all they did was slow down. They’ve been on the rise again, gravitating to each other for protection and for somewhere to belong. _

_ These people, Dean, they need someone to help them out into the light again.  They need a sympathetic ear to get the public to accept them. But to do that you would have to give up the very thing that gives you the power to save them. _

_ I have a lot of regrets in my life, some bigger than others, but I don't know that there's anything I would change, because those choices gave me you.  Dean, my little boy. _

_ Someday you’re going to carry an entire world on your shoulders, and I’m sorry that I may not be there to help you.  And there’s only so much that a letter can say. I don’t know what your life has in store for you or the little one I’m carrying now, but know that I love you, very much, and I know you’re going to do great things. _

_ All my love, _

_ Mom _

 

Dean sets the letter down, the rustling of the paper the only sound in the kitchen. He's feeling too many emotions to even try and sort them out right then, pain, fear, and an odd sort of comfort all battling it out in his head.  Cas' hand runs over his spine a few times, the contact keeping him from getting lost in his own mind. 

“I had a friend, when I was real young,” he starts talking, his voice almost a whisper.  “Was about a year or so after we moved in here with Bobby. Her name was Leila. I met her out in the woods, we would play and when I had to leave she would disappear into the trees again.  Bobby told me to make sure I never told my dad about her.” Dean pauses, trying to dig the memories from the back of his mind where they'd been hiding for so long. “She was so kind, so pretty, but she always seemed sad.  I remember asking about it on my tenth birthday, when we sneaked off into the woods to go play in the snow. I asked her why she was sad all the time.” Dean lifts his right arm, his birthmark obvious on his skin. “She pointed to this and said  _ I’m one too. _  Like I was supposed to understand why that made her sad.  She stopped coming around after that, and a couple years later I…” 

“Dean…”  Cas’ voice is comforting, even if Dean can’t get it from his scent.  Dean squeezes his hand.

"I realized what she meant after that, but when I moved to Central and into the manse... I felt like I was going crazy, like I'd made her up.  Finding this out... about the other omegas..."

"It's a relief," Cas finishes for him.  Dean nods, pulling Cas' hand to his lips for a kiss. 

"Yeah."  He glances up at the pocket doors, knowing his family is waiting behind them.  "Bobby's right though, I have a shit ton more questions now." 

"Bobby has some answers, and Charlie has others, if you're ready."  Cas' fingers give his a squeeze.

Dean is beyond ready. He stands and walks over to the pocket doors separating the kitchen from the study, sliding them both open.  Sam is sitting on the couch, his scent thick with similar emotions to Dean's. Bobby and Charlie are both sitting behind the desk, their scents cautious but calm. 

"How much do you know?"  Dean asks Sam, and Sam holds up his own letter.

"All of it."

"I'm assuming you two do as well?"  Dean turns his gaze to Charlie and Bobby.

"I knew coming into this," Charlie admits.  Bobby only nods, and Dean takes a deep breath.

“Okay, so lay it on me.”  Dean moves to stand in the middle of the room, arms crossed and drawn up to his full height.  “What the hell happened?” There’s a brief pause, Bobby looking Dean over with a curious gaze.

“Are you sure you want to do this now?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”  Bobby and Charlie exchange a look, and Charlie starts talking.

“Well, you know about the protests against the chancellorship?”

“Yeah, about people wanting the right to vote.  Which for the record I agree with.” Charlie gives him a small smile when he says that.

“A lot of those groups are run and aided by people who are also part of the Omega network.” 

"Network?"

"The way the communities all stay connected," she goes on.  "All of them keep up with local news, national news, and each other.  It keeps them safe until the time's right to reveal themselves." 

"And when will that be?" Dean wonders.

"Well, kinda now?" Dean blinks in confusion, and Charlie shuffles through some of the papers on the desk, handing a single page over to Dean.  It’s a list of color coded names, with lines connecting some to others in a weird web pattern.

“What is this?”

“A flow chart of influential individuals in the know.  The ones highlighted in yellow already work in government, and have a plan in place for their regions.  The ones highlighted in pink are names Sam's given of Security Force members who are loyal to him, and you."  Dean glances at Sam, who gives him a shrug and a sheepish smile. "The ones in blue are omegas already integrated into society. Each of those names stands for at least ten more people whom they trust, that they’ve surrounded themselves with.”  Dean’s eyes roam down the list. He recognizes way more names than he thought he would, people he's met over the years he's lived at the manse. 

“What exactly do you mean when you say they're  _ ready _ ?” Dean asks, slowly setting the list back on the desk. There's an anxious excitement reading in Charlie's scent, determination in Sam's, and Bobby's scent is the same steady calm it always is _. _

“We’re not planning a military coup,” Bobby grunts.  “For the most part people are just... waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”  Dean’s eyes go wide when Bobby fixes him with a pointed stare, and Dean’s heart leaps into his throat.  “Waiting for me?!”

“There was a hope that when you came into office that you’d help with the whole announcing it to the public thing. That we'd finally have someone in office who would be sympathetic, willing to give up their power for the greater good."  Charlie smiles up at him. "Finding out how you felt about your grandfather at Cas', it gave a lot of people hope."

“But what happened to Samuel has thrown in a proverbial wrench,” Bobby sighs.

“Isn't it the perfect opportunity?” Dean says, rubbing his forehead.  “The omegas can usurp Gwen just because they exist, skip over me entirely."  His heart sinks in his chest. "I don’t want to be responsible for- for all those people.”

 

“There’s a problem with that.”  Bobby’s scent is grim, and Dean hears Cas get to his feet, walking up behind him.  Sam pushes to his feet as well, pacing the room with a bitterness to his scent. “You’ve heard of the Hell Hounds, right?”  There’s a chill of fear from everyone in the room at Bobby’s words, including a shiver that runs up his own spine.

“Yeah, the- the death squad?  From like, a hundred years before our first great-whatever took over?”  Dean’s trying to be casual about this, trying not to let anyone see his panic.  Judging from the way Cas moves closer, even without scent he can’t fool his mate.

“The Colts, the family before the Campbells, used the Hounds as their enforcers.  They weren’t bound by the law, by morals, and they were deadly. Over time, the Chancellorship lost control of them, and they became nothing more than a gang of murderers.  Isabelle Colt, the last of the Colt line, rounded them up and had them put to death." Charlie could be reading out of a textbook, it's the same thing Dean's heard before.

“Yeah, I get that,” Dean meets Bobby’s eyes.  “Why the hell are we talking about them now?”

“Apparently they’re not all gone.”  Bobby’s words send Dean’s heart up into his throat.  Sam’s surprise in his scent slaps Dean in the face; they haven’t mentioned this part to Sam yet either.

“They managed to survive all this time?!?”  Sam sounds like he’s about to laugh.

“And even the Campbells haven’t been above using them.”  Bobby slides a stack of papers over to Dean, taking his hat off to rub his forehead tiredly.  “Boys, your uncle did not die of natural causes. Your momma knew that, which is why she wrote those letters.” Cas moves forward a step, looking over Dean’s shoulder as he reads through what looks like internal memos and diary entries.  Charlie looks a little guilty, and Dean figures she's the one that dug all this up. 

“So she was right, Christian was murdered?” Sam asks in disbelief. A mix of anger and anxiety is swirling in Dean’s stomach as he reads, and Cas’ hand brushes his elbow, wanting to comfort him.  Sam’s anger is thick in the air once he's read through the papers Dean hands him. 

“While I was hacking into the bunker’s system to get you guys access, I stumbled across some files.  Pictures of crime scenes in some other high profile murders.” Charlie turns her computer around to face the room. There’s a picture of a business card on a hardwood floor, a puddle of blood next to it, with nothing but a silver outline of a dog’s paw on the card.  She taps a key and a handful more slide by, the last one next to the hospital bed of Christian Campbell.

“How does the public _ not _ know about this?” Dean snaps.  He’s breathing through his mouth at this point, all the battling scents in the room too damn much. He can hear Cas’ harsh breathing behind him, but neither of them can use the other’s scent right now to help and it’s beyond frustrating. The old, constant headache Dean used to get is coming back in full force, and he rubs at his temple to try and get some relief.

“Someone near the chancellorship has been very, very careful.”  Bobby sets his jaw.

“Wait, these guys are assassins.  Mercenaries for hire, right?” Sam asks, glancing at Dean before finishing his thought out loud.  “Who’s hiring them?” Dean’s eyes slip closed and his aunt’s face swirls into view. A sudden fury bursts into Dean’s gut, bitter and fierce.    
“Gwen,” he growls, voice low and dangerous.  “The same bitch that locked me up, she  _ framed _ me for what  _ she _ did.”

“That’s what we’re thinking,” Bobby nods.  “You boys weren’t born yet, but when Christian died all eyes turned to Gwen and her mate, and she  _ loved  _ the attention.  The problem was, neither of her kids were born with the mark.”

“We think-“ Charlie interrupts with a squeak, “we think she got a taste of power, of what it would be like to be in charge, and wanted more.”

“If she had her kids in power she could control them,” Sam nods in agreement.  “Fuck, I don’t even want to  _ think  _ about Brady or Lilith being Chancellor.”

“Mary and John were already hiding out here with me, and Mary knew what you’d be, Dean, before you were born.”  Dean swallows hard, trying not to show on his face the pain he’s struggling to keep from everyone. Cas’ hand squeezes his elbow anyway.  “And she stayed out here, even if it meant throwing the world into chaos when Gwen couldn’t produce an omega.”

“Mom’s letter said she had a plan,” Sam interrupts.  “She said she had contingencies...“

“But she died,” Dean’s voice is thick, and Sam looks like he’s on the verge of tears.  “She died, and Dad took me back there to those people.”

“The fact that he brought you straight to the Chancellor is probably what helped you survive,” Charlie says, her voice gentle.  “Once the public knew about you there was no way Gwen could keep power or remove you without being found out.”

“I guess ‘child murder’ is a bit too far for her,” Sam spits.

The room lapses into silence for a while as they all digest the situation they’ve found themselves in.  Everything has become more complicated than Dean realized it would be. There was real risk now, aside from humiliation and imprisonment, real risk to the lives of the people he loves.  Cas' hand finds the small of his back, a light touch that makes Dean heavy with emotion.

“So, what happens now?” Cas asks the room at large.  Dean turns to look at him, feeling nothing but sad regret about getting Cas involved.  Cas' eyes are full of determination, and Dean knows there's no way to argue with him about going back home.  With no way to go backwards, Dean realizes the only thing to do is go forward.

“I want to meet the omegas, hear what they have to say.”  Charlie lights up at Dean's announcement, eager and excited.

“I’ll reach out to them, I know they’ll be eager to talk.”  Bobby's scent carries a hint of pride, and he almost smiles at Dean.

“I’ll keep digging on the Hounds,” Charlie says, tapping away at her keyboard with newfound motivation.  Sam runs his hands through his hair, general agitation in his scent bitter in Dean’s nose.

“Dean, Gwen’s not going to give up easily.”  He fixes Dean with a hard look. “Omega or not, she’s finally in charge and she’s not gonna listen to you.  Besides there’s a good chance she already knows about the Omega population-”

“Guys!”  Charlie interrupts, pure horror in her scent.  She turns the laptop around, and it’s a news story about Gwen getting mated. 

“His name is Azazel,” Bobby takes a few steps away and drops into a chair, his scent grim.  “And he’s in charge of the Hell Hounds.” Dean’s gonna puke up his food.

“I don’t understand, I thought you said she had a mate and children?” Cas wonders.

“She does, but her mate left her not long after Lilith was born.  He uh,” Sam swallows hard, shock in his scent. “He vanished.” The ominous feeling in the room sends a shiver up Dean's spine.  Dean focuses on the photo on Charlie's computer instead of his feelings of dread.

“I know that guy,” Dean breathes, eyes on the man with the smug smile next to Gwen.  “As far as I could tell from what little I saw, he was the one calling the shots in the bunker until Crowley showed up.”  Charlie takes her laptop back, typing away at a furious pace.

“So the news story goes on to say that, in order to keep people safe and to track down the terrorists that attacked the chancellor, Gwen is putting a special security team in charge of things until the threat has passed.”

“Well fuck,” Sam groans, scrubbing a hand over his face.  “I… I need a minute…” Sam storms out of the room, and Charlie scrambles to her feet to chase after him.  Dean stops her with a gentle hand on her arm, shaking his head.

“Let him be.”  He knows his brother, Sam needs a while to think, then he’ll be back and ready to fucking fight.  Dean blinks as a wave of exhaustion rolls over him, swaying a bit on his feet. Cas is there in an instant, hands on his hip and arm to steady him without coddling.

“I’m gonna take Charlie here for a supply run, before it gets any worse out there,” Bobby says gruffly.  “I know you boys have a lot of talking and thinking to do.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”  Dean offers his hand, and Bobby gives it a firm shake, almost smiling as he guides Charlie out of the house. 

Dean closes his eyes, taking a deep breath of air free of scents.

“You okay?”  Cas' voice is soft with concern and his own exhaustion.  Dean turns to face him, to really look at him, and he can see the effect this whole mess is having on him.  The dark circles under his eyes, the slouch to his shoulders, the worry lining his face. But there's affection in his eyes, and Dean's never been so grateful to have found his mate.

_ His mate. _

In spite of everything, here he is, with Cas again, and he can’t stop himself from leaning in to press his lips against the corner of Cas’ mouth.

“Thank you, for coming for me.”

“We promised we’d find each other again,” Cas says like it’s the most simple thing in the world. His breath is warm against Dean’s chin and Dean wishes like hell he could flush the blockers from his system right  _ now _ .

“So how  _ did _ you find me, exactly?” Dean wonders.  Cas looks him over, running a warm hand over his cheek.

“Let’s go upstairs, get you back to sleep.  You’re still not at 100%.”

“Trying to get me in bed, Cas?”  Dean’s jest falls a little flat, but Cas’ eyes soften anyway.

“As much as I would love to consummate our reunion physically, I’m not sure that you’ll be able to keep up right now.”  Cas smirks in triumph as Dean flushes, his ears burning pink as he follows along behind Cas. Climbing the stairs goes a little slow, as much as Dean’s feeling better he’s definitely still not at his best.

Cas takes him to the room he woke up in and tucks him into bed like a child, arranging the pillows and blankets as best he can on the small bed. There’s enough ambient light coming through the curtains for Dean to see by, and he can tell Cas isn't planning on joining him.  Dean scoots back to give Cas space, patting the mattress, but Cas hesitates. “Dean, I-”

“Get in here,” Dean grunts, and Cas gives in, sliding into bed next to him.  With some adjusting Dean ends up on his side facing the wall, Cas pressed up behind him. He reaches behind himself and grabs Cas’ hand, tugging his arm up and over Dean’s middle and effectively removing any space between them. Dean breathes deep, wanting to lose himself to Cas’ warmth and doze off, but his brain is still buzzing with too many questions.  “So, you were telling me about how you came my rescue?” 

"Dean, you need to rest."

"C'mon Cas, think of it as a bedtime story."  He can  _ feel  _ Cas rolling his eyes but his mate starts talking anyway.

“When the bombing happened, Charlie got scared.  She came to get me and we both left the Southeast before anyone would have a chance to retrace your steps.  Sam contacted us, told us you were being blamed for what had happened.”

“Sammy’s always got my back,” Dean nods, proud of his brother.  Cas nods behind him.

“He’s a good man.  When we got to Central he found us a safe house to hunker down and plan in.  Charlie was amazing. I can’t count the number of laws she broke, but she hacked her way through enough servers to get us blueprints of the bunker and the rotation schedule for the guards.”

“Dude, she deserves a medal,” Dean hums.  Cas’ breath is warm on the back of his neck as he leans in to rest his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

“She was the one that suggested we come to Bobby when we got you out, though at the time she didn’t know you two knew him.”

“What are the odds?” Dean huffs a small laugh.  “How did she know him?”

“He’s one of the big players among the Omega Network.”  Cas says it matter of fact, but both of them tense up at the words.  “God, it’s still hard to wrap my brain around, you know?” Cas sighs.

“Me too,” Dean admits. His hand is drawing mindless patterns against Cas’ forearm, and they sit in silence for a moment, Cas’ body heat comforting while they pause.  Cas takes a deep breath and continues his story.

“So we got a hold of Bobby and worked out a plan for getting here afterwards. Sam handled the actual breakout plan itself, Charlie cutting the power long enough to get us in and out and handling the logistics once we were inside.  Sam was so calm, training me to fight and how to use a stun gun and I was just...  _ way  _ out of my depth."  Dean feels Cas' grip on him tighten, and his heart hurts for his mate. "We make it to the bunker and the lights go out and…  _ Shit,  _ I went red, I… I… We only had a few minutes to get in and out, there wasn’t time to spare.”  Dean can hear the fear and pain in Cas’ voice, so he snuggles deeper into his hold.

“Betcha you were a downright badass, wish I could have seen it.”  He can feel Cas relax a little, but not much. When he speaks next his voice is thin.

““Finding you in that medical room... I was terrified that… that they’d done something…”  Cas squeezes Dean tighter, and Dean once again wishes he could get more of Cas’ scent, to know how deep this anxiety goes.  “If we hadn’t waited as long as we did, if we had been able to-”

“Hey,” Dean leans back into Cas, able to turn his head and meet Cas’ eyes.  They’re full of anger and remorse, and Dean isn’t sure how to fix them but he needs to.  “Don’t blame yourself for what they did. That’s not on you.”

“I missed you,” Cas breathes, his voice brittle to the point of breaking.  Dean manages to flip himself around, wrapping himself around Cas as he goes in for a kiss.  Cas’ kiss feels hesitant, like he doesn’t want to push Dean, but Dean is having none of it. He licks deep, pouring all his good emotions at getting Cas back into this kiss, and Cas lets him. The way Cas’ hands clutch at him in desperation spurs Dean on, rolling over Cas completely and pinning him to the mattress.

“Missed you so fucking much, Cas.”  He buries his nose in Cas’ neck, able to finally catch the faint scent of warmth that is inherent to  _ Cas _ .  It zings down his spine, and he pulls Cas into his neck, hoping that if Cas’ blockers are starting to wear off so are his.  Cas’ mouth is open over his skin, and he gasps, letting Dean know he can scent him too.

“Dean...  _ Dean.” _

“I’m here, Cas.  I’m right here.” Cas whimpers, fingers tugging on Dean like he can pull him closer than they already are, which is pretty much impossible but it seems the alpha is trying anyway. Dean’s not sure when but at some point they both started crying, silent tears dripping down their faces as they kiss and scent and hold each other.

Slowly the blockers wear off, and slowly they don’t have to try so hard to scent each other anymore, Dean relaxing into Cas, his head pillowed on Cas’ chest.

The steady  _ bu-dump  _ of Cas’ heartbeat against his ear helps keep him afloat as he absorbs everything that’s happened in the past few weeks.  Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, his other arm wrapped around his shoulders. Dean's surrounded by Cas, and mate, and safety, and eventually he gives in and lets himself drift off to sleep.


	11. Escape the Past

Cas wakes up suddenly, adrenaline pumping through him.  For a moment he was back in the bunker, fighting his way to Dean in the crimson light. He can almost still smell the copper sharpness of blood from a guard’s busted face and the bitter scent of singed flesh from the stun gun he’d used.  There’s a thin layer of sweat covering his skin, and his scent is sharp enough to cut something.

 

“Hmm… Cas?”  Dean’s wrapped around him from behind, legs and arms holding him close in a, quite literally, warm embrace.  Cas’ dreaming must have woken him too. “S’matter?” Cas takes a deep breath, taking in his mate’s scent and letting it out slow.  He repeats a few times till his scent is back to normal and the nightmare recedes.

 

“Nothing.  Bad dream.”  Cas’ words aren’t convincing, even to himself.  Dean pushes himself up on an elbow to look down at Cas, but Cas can’t bring himself to meet Dean’s eyes.

 

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Dean's voice is gentle, not demanding, “but you probably should.”

 

“Back at you,” Cas huffs, and Dean rolls his eyes at Cas' attempt to make it about him.  “I will, but… not right now.” Dean’s worried, Cas can scent it, but he seems to let it go, laying back down and tucking Cas close.  Dean’s grip is tight, possessive, and Cas finds he likes being possessed.

 

“What do you say about going on a trip today?”  Dean sounds a little nervous about asking, brushing his nose along the back of Cas’ neck.

 

“A trip where?”

 

“To meet the Omegas.  I… I need to do this before I do anything else.”

 

“Really?”  Cas turns over to face Dean, their legs still tangled.  “You want to take me, an alpha with hyperosmia, into a group of omegas?”

 

“Yeah,” Dean shrugs, smiling at him.   _God_ he missed Dean's smile.  “Your headaches and mood swings have been better since being around me, right?  Things are easier to manage, they don’t put you on edge as much?” Cas opens his mouth to object and finds that he can’t, Dean has a point.  He’s so used to being alone in this he’s forgotten Dean has the same condition. Dean knows better than anyone the effects, and how they would have drastically changed since they met.  Sensing victory, Dean grins even wider, but Cas still protests.

 

“Shouldn’t you take Bobby?  Someone they know instead of a complete stranger?  I’m not equipped for all this political nonsense.” Ever since they got to Central the only thing that kept him from completely shutting down in a panic was getting back to Dean. Now that he’s here he never wants to leave this bedroom, much less march into a community of socially oppressed people like he’s some kind of hero.  Dean’s nose flares at the fear Cas knows he’s giving off, and his smile fades into something deeper, more serious.

 

“Look, I know this is a lot, but I need you there.”  Dean gives him a shy look and drops his eyes. “I need my mate with me.”   _Mate._ Cas scent floods with affection, enough to make him blush.

 

“You really still want that, with me?”

 

“Of course I do,” Dean scoffs.  “I know our circumstances haven’t been ideal...“

 

“You think?” Cas chuckles.

 

“-but all I could think about while I was locked up was you.”

 

Cas’ blush deepens. “Really?”

 

“Yeah.  At first I wondered what you were up to, if you’d gone back to daily life since I’d left.  Then I got worried you’d take my silence personal, that you would think I’d forgotten about you.  I daydreamed a hundred different scenarios, playing out how our reunion would go. Would you turn away from me?  Would we jump each other no matter who was around?” Dean’s words line up so close with how Cas had been feeling it finally starts to set him at ease.

 

“Well, how about the one that actually happened?”

 

“My White knight in shining armor coming to rescue me?”  Dean smirks, leaning in to brush his nose against Cas’ in a sweet and intimate gesture.  “Only when I was feeling particularly sappy.” Cas catches Dean’s lips, a quick kiss as _mate_ and _home_ and _content_ surrounds them.  “Ugh, alright, we better get out of bed before I change my mind.”

 

“Don’t wanna,” Cas grumbles, even as he extricates himself from Dean’s embrace.  He immediately feels colder, his body already missing Dean’s warmth. Castiel grabs his toiletries and makes his way to the bathroom, showering and brushing his teeth.  He decides to leave his stubble for now, liking how it looks, and makes his way back to the bedroom. Dean presses a quick kiss to his cheek as he passes by for his turn in the bathroom.

 

“I’ll just be a minute, if you want to get us packed up.”  Cas nods and glances around the room. They don’t have much to pack in the way of clothes, but Cas shoves what they do have that’s clean in his duffle. Cas hears Dean and Sam bickering in the hallway and for the first time since all this happened, Cas wonders what’s going on with Gabriel and Michael.  Are they being held somewhere? Do they have any idea what happened to Cas? He feels like a complete asshole, all but forgetting about his family while trying to get to Dean. He considers at least texting Gabriel, his phone in his hand when he remembers how cautious Sam was when contacting Charlie.

 

He slips downstairs with their bags before Dean gets back from the shower, seeking out Charlie where she usually sets up shop in the kitchen.  Charlie was a bundle of energy for as long as Cas has known her, but she’s come _alive_ with everything that’s happened.  For more selfish reasons than he'll admit, Cas has never been so grateful to have her in his life.

 

“Hey, Cas, what’s up?” she asks, a cup of ramen next to her and an energy drink on the other side.  He raises an eyebrow.

 

“So when Bobby said the two of you were going for supplies…”

 

“Hush, I need it, okay?” she grouses.  Cas’ purpose hits him again and Charlie frowns in concern as his face falls.  “What’s going on?”

 

“Have you heard from Gabriel?  Or Michael?” he asks, sitting down across from her.

 

“Not direct contact, but I have been keeping tabs on them.”  She smiles at Cas, her scent reassuring. “Gabe’s farm is being watched by a neighbor, and it seems that officials have no idea where he’s disappeared to.  Michael has gone on a sabbatical and cannot be reached by anyone. From what communications I’ve hacked into, security forces are very frustrated that some ‘hick and pencil pusher’ have eluded them.”  Cas smiles, relaxing as his relief floods the room. “I’m working on the slow and safe way to contact the Omega group in Southeast, but bet you dollars to donuts they’re helping hide them.”

 

“Donuts?” Dean says as he walks in the room, his scent so much warmer than it had been yesterday that Cas doesn’t even try to hide how his nose flares.

 

“No, sad to report no sugary carbohydrates, but we do have some eggs and I think there’s some bacon left.” Charlie points over her shoulder, laughing at Dean's enthusiastic fist pump when she said _bacon_.  Dean begins to arrange his breakfast, and Bobby walks in, smelling of engine grease.

 

“I assume you’re heading out today?

 

“No sense in waiting,” Dean nods, bringing a plate over to Cas.  Cas doesn't bother asking how Bobby knew Dean would want to leave.

 

“Alright, well your fancy muscle car won’t do you any good out in these woods, so I’ve got a four-wheel drive jeep set up for you.”  Bobby washes his hands at the sink, his scent thoughtful.

 

“What’s on your mind?” Dean asks.

 

“There’s a lot of change coming, and people don’t always like change.  Sometimes they fight against it.”

 

“Well we’ll have to fight back,” Sam says, walking in the kitchen.  He smells like gunpowder and Cas immediately flashes back to the bunker. He suppressed his anxiety quick as he can, and he's thankful Sam has provided a distraction for Dean so he doesn't notice his mate's reaction.

 

“Really Sam?”

 

“It helps me relax,” Sam bristles, his worry manifesting as anger in his scent.  “And it never hurts to be too prepared.”

 

“Yeah, well, guns aren’t the answer to everything,” Charlie pipes up.

 

“Okay, finish up and get out of here before we start fighting among ourselves,” Bobby huffs.  He reaches into a drawer and drops a piece of paper on the table, Cas looking over as Dean picks it up.  It appears to be a map, with coordinates written in at certain places along the route to keep them on course.

 

Cas knows tensions are high, he can scent it off everyone in the room, including himself, but they’re doing something about it.  They’ve got purpose, he has Dean, and his family is safe. Optimism he isn't used to feeling fills his chest with warmth.

 

“Maybe,” he speaks up, and shifts in his seat when everyone turns to look at him.  “Maybe we can do this.” Charlie beams at him, and Dean nudges his knee with his own.

 

“Atta boy, Cas.”

  


Dean disappears to talk with Sam while Cas loads their bags and waits by the Jeep.  When Dean shows up, his scent is dark with worry but also filled with motivation, and Cas doesn’t comment on it. He climbs in the passenger side, feeling exposed by the open top vehicle, and Dean starts the engine, setting off down a dirt road into the woods.

 

Getting the radio working wasn’t on Bobby’s list, but the sounds of the engine mixed with nature give the two of them a soundtrack for their trip. Neither of them feels the need to fill the silence, Dean’s scent shifting as he thinks and Cas watching the nature passing them by.

 

It's enough for Cas to be with Dean again, he realizes. Whatever happens in the coming days, or weeks, he knows he may not be ready for it, but it doesn't matter as long as he's with Dean. He chuckles to himself in amusement, because no, he never pegged himself as one of those romantic types. The whole fall in love, head over heels thing was never in his peripheral, not till an engine broke down and the perfect man happened to walk up to his porch.

 

Dean's concentration breaks enough to glance over at Cas briefly; Cas is sure he's broadcasting all his warm fuzzies in his scent.  He reaches over and runs a hand down Dean's bicep, and Dean chuckles. _Dork._ Cas can read it plain as day in Dean's smile and scent.

 

After an hour, the dirt road gives way to rougher trails, the Jeep bouncing over dips and bumps large enough to almost jostle Cas from his seat.  The path clears out to a graded gravel road after about 15 minutes, and Cas starts to scent food and people on the wind. Dean keeps driving till they come up on a wooden gate blocking the road, about ten feet high, and he pulls over onto the shoulder.  Caution is on the air, but when he turns to Cas he’s wearing a confident smile.

 

“You ready?”

 

“No, but I bet I still have to get out of the car,” Cas sighs.  Dean grins, reaching over to squeeze his hand before popping his seat belt.  Cas climbs out of the car after him, stretching his sore back and legs as they approach the gate.

 

“Dean Winchester.”  Cas can’t see where the voice came from, so he’s assuming it’s from someone behind the gate.

 

“Yeah?” Dean answers. The gate swings open, and a petite blonde woman walks out, smiling warmly at them, her scent soft and welcoming.

 

“We’ve been waiting for you.”  Dean’s scent gives off surprise as she gets closer.

 

“Layla?”

 

“Yes, Dean.  It’s good to see you again.”  Cas flashes back to Dean’s childhood friend, the omega girl he’d met in the woods.

 

“Wow, I uh, I didn’t expect to see you again,” Dean admits.  She smiles, kind and genuine, and turns to Cas.

 

“And you are Dean’s mate?”

 

“We uh, haven’t made it official but, yeah.”  Cas flushes and nods. “Name’s Castiel, or Cas.”  Dean's scent fills with affection and Cas does his best to ignore it before he blushes further.

 

“Well, welcome to our home.” she gestures behind her, indicating that Cas and Dean should follow as she turns back for the gate.  Dean grabs their bags out of the Jeep and then grabs Cas’ hand with his free one, tugging gently in encouragement. Cas lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

 

They pass through the gate, and into what looks like a normal small town. Wooden buildings all face inward towards a common square, some of them multiple stories while others are more simple. Here and there Cas notices things he didn’t expect, like signs of modern plumbing and electricity, even some satellite dishes.  Layla must notice him noticing because her scent laces with amusement.

 

“We’ve been out here a long time, Cas.  Long enough to have found ways to acquire more comforts than you might expect.”

 

“Sorry,” Cas mutters.

 

“It’s okay.  It’s important you realize we’re not some desperate people waiting to be rescued.” They’re starting to attract stares as they make their way towards the largest building on the square, a six storied, imposing structure.  “We don’t need the world, but the world needs us.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Dean asks, curiosity in his voice. She lets them into the building, and Cas is startled to find a group of about fifty people inside, all staring at him and Dean. There’s a hushed silence in the room, and with this many people Cas is expecting the scents to be overwhelming but they’re… not.  Curiosity is one thing Cas catches, but overall it’s an undertone of anticipation. The scent that’s most freaked out in the entire room is his own, and Dean moves closer to him, brushing him with his shoulder.

 

“I’m okay," Cas assures him.  “I wasn’t expecting it to be so… easy.”  He meets Layla’s gaze and ducks his head when she gives him a knowing smile.

 

“Come on, there’s a room where we can talk in private.”  Layla’s scent is warm and inviting, and Dean nudges Cas to get him walking again. They follow Layla down a long hallway to an office, a candle burning and giving off the scent of nutmeg and cinnamon. It reminds Cas of pumpkin pie, comfort food he and Michael used to bake together as kids, and immediately he's set at ease. The office furniture is soft and comfortable looking, Layla gesturing for them to sit on the couch as she sits in a chair across from them.  The coffee table between them is bare, but photos of the woods adorn the walls and make the room feel warm.

 

“So, they all know who I am?” Dean asks once they're settled.

 

“Of course,” Layla nods. “If they didn’t know your face from the news, the fact that you’re an omega accompanied by an alpha from outside the community tells them all they need to know.”

 

“An alpha from _outside_ the community?  Does that mean there are more alphas here?”  Cas doesn't mean to interrupt but he's sort of surprised.

 

“Well, yes.  The people who live here aren't prisoners or forced to stay within our town.  We have access to the same prescription blockers as anyone else, so if someone wants to leave they can.  Many come to enjoy living in the major cities, and sometimes they’re even lucky enough to find a mate.” Her tone is gentle, not chastising, and Cas tries not to feel embarrassed.

 

“Why would they bring the alpha back here though?  If they have a life outside the settlement?" Dean's question seems casual enough but Cas can scent the weight of it in his scent.  The meaning behind it.

 

"Well, Dean as I'm sure you know, usually when people mate they want to have pups."  Layla grins as Dean flushes a bright pink, and Cas proceeds to choke on the air he's trying to breathe.

 

"I mean, yeah, I guess," Dean mutters, glancing over at Cas.

 

"We have doctors who know what's best for omegas, who know the difference between an omega and a beta pregnancy.  It's just safer here." Layla goes on to explain. Layla nods, glancing out the window. Cas follows her gaze to see two small children playing together at a park across the street.  Two women are sitting on a bench nearby, watching fondly, one cradling her swollen belly.

 

Something aches inside Cas at the sight, and Dean's scent sweetens into the same kind of ache.  Cas has to practically sit on his hands, reminding himself they aren't alone in this office.

 

"Right, yeah."  Dean clears his throat, quickly changing the subject. "What you said earlier, about the, for lack of a better term, ‘outside world’ needing you…”  Layla lets the change of topic go.

 

“Hyperosmia, as you call it, isn’t a condition, it’s how we're meant to be.”

 

"You mean like, everyone?  All alphas and omegas?" Cas asks.

 

“Before the decline of omegas to one bloodline everyone was this way.  Bonding was stronger and more genuine, birth rates were up. But when omega births declined, it was like nature compensated by toning everything down.  When our numbers started to increase again, society had... gotten used to things being a certain way. So they forced us away, and in doing so, they also kept people's biologies from recovering.”

 

“Makes sense,” Dean nods.

 

“What I want you both to understand is we have a good life out here. We’re not the oppressed masses begging to be given a chance, but we know what’s happening in the country right now and we want to help.” Cas can scent Dean’s worry about his responsibility, the frustration he feels about this falling on his shoulders.  Cas reaches out to rest his hand on Dean’s knee, trying to soothe him as best he can.

 

“People are going to be skeptical, nervous,” Dean points out.

 

“We know. There are members of our community who are less than excited about exposing ourselves.”  Layla tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, utter calm in her scent. “But we took a vote, and we decided this is what we want.”  Cas is convinced, but he can still scent Dean’s hesitation.

 

“Think about how messed up I was,” Cas sits forward in his chair, catching Dean’s eye.  “Then you found me and look at me now. Imagine all those other people, hyperosmiac or not, finally knowing what it’s like to be who they’re supposed to be.”  Dean meets his eyes, and smiles.

 

“Okay.  Yeah, okay, let’s do this.”  He turns his grin to Layla and she smiles back.

 

They spend a couple hours talking about logistics, a lot of stuff that goes right over Cas’ head, but that Layla and the other communities have prepared for.  Every counterpoint Dean brings up has a contingency, every flaw an escape clause. By the time they’re finished, Dean's scent is a lot more confident, powerful.  So much so it’s kind of distracting in the 'not for polite company' way, if Cas is honest.

 

Layla pushes to her feet, sticking her head out the door and calling to someone across the hall.

 

“Jessica can show you around, make sure you get fed,” Layla explains as another blonde walks in.  She’s younger than Layla, her smile no less kind, but her scent has more… charge, or energy.

 

“Pleased to meet you, Dean,” she nods, shaking his hand.  She turns and offers her hand to Cas, who feels slightly intimidated by her.

 

“I’m Cas." Okay very intimidated, Jessica’s whole demeanor is a force to be reckoned with, and he finds he wants to drop his head in submission.  He manages not to at least, and Dean smirks at him when Jessica releases his hand.

 

“Okay, Cas.  You two can call me Jess.  Let me show you to the Civic Center.”  She turns and heads out of the room, and Dean and Layla exchange one last glance.

 

"Thank you," Dean says in a soft voice.  Layla smiles and nods, and Dean turns to Cas, who still has yet to follow Jessica out of the room.  Dean laughs, shaking his head at Cas as he leads the way out.

 

“She’s not gonna bite."  Dean's smugness laced with fondness makes Cas flush.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Yeah, okay tough guy,” Dean chuckles.

 

Jessica proves to be a very charming tour guide, even if she is a bit sassy. The square they’re in is the equivalent of downtown: the main community services, like schools and the governing body sit right in the center of town. The Civic Center where they stop for lunch is everything a community center should be; Cas can see many town meetings, plays, and other events being held there. People crowd around them a bit as they eat off of a community potluck, dozens of people with varying scents all crowding in to meet Dean.  Cas doesn't mind too much that he's mostly ignored, aside from a few curious inquiries from people. Dean is handling the attention well and it gives Cas a sense of pride. His mate is going to be something great to these people, and he can't wait to see it.

 

When they've finished eating what little they could with the stream of visitors, Jessica extricates Dean and Cas from the crowd, leading them back out onto the main street. It turns out the actual living spaces stretch much deeper into the forest, houses and bungalows going on for a few miles. As they walk, they pass by a thriving farm, and Cas immediately feels homesick at the smells of earth, animals, and fresh harvested plants.  Dean is there at his side immediately, nudging his shoulder, and Cas ducks his head with a smile.

 

“I’m fine, Dean.  You don’t have to worry over me every time I feel something negative.”

 

“`Course I do,” Dean puffs his chest out, "it's my job, isn't it?"  Cas shakes his head in amusement, giving Dean a gentle shove away from him.

 

“Wow, you two are the definition of smitten.  And you’re not actually mated yet?” Jessica’s voice is teasing but her scent is thoughtful.

 

“Yet being the key word.”  Dean’s answering smile is shy and _oh_ so cute and Cas feels a happy surge in his scent.

 

“I’d like to find that, someday.” Jessica's reply is a bit melancholy, and when she turns to lead them on further, Cas finds himself hurrying to catch her hand.

 

“You will,” he says with conviction.  Her smile falters a bit before its back, a slight blush on her cheeks.

 

“We’ve set up a cabin for you on the edge of town, you can stay as long as you need to.”  She points down the road to a small house off on its own. “I have some classes to attend to, otherwise I’d stick around.”

 

“Taking classes?” Cas wonders.

 

“Teaching,” she says with pride.  “If you need anything there’s a landline in the house, and a list of phone numbers.”  She turns to Dean, resting her hand on his shoulder with a brief squeeze. “It’s kinda… awesome that you’re here.”  With a grin she turns and walks away too fast for Dean to respond. Dean’s scent starts to slide into the overwhelmed side again, so Cas nudges him with an elbow.

 

“I kinda feel like I should get your autograph or something.  You seem kinda famous.”

 

“Shut up,” Dean grouses, turning and walking towards the cabin, holding Cas’ hand tight.  Cas can see the smile Dean doesn’t quite hide.

 

The cabin is small, one large room making up the living room and kitchen, and two open doors, one leading to a bedroom, and the other to a bathroom.  The bathroom has a washer and hanging racks to dry clothes on, and the living room has a small fireplace. The kitchen is stocked with plenty of fresh food and a variety of juices. Overall the color palette is soft yellows and creams, feeling like summer, warmth and comfort. Cas is about to suggest they talk about the day when Dean crowds up behind him, wrapping his arms tight across his middle and burying his nose in Cas’ neck.

 

“Dean, what-”  Dean’s scenting him, strong inhales through his nose and hot exhales from his mouth across Cas’ skin.  Something needy bursts into his scent that makes Cas' heart melt. “What are you doing?” Cas’ voice is breathy, but he blames it on how Dean is squeezing the life out of him.

 

“I don’t want to wait,” he pants in response.  “Cas, we keep calling each other our mates, everyone around us says it, but we’re _not_ , not yet, and _fuck._ ”  Dean nips at the back of Cas’ neck, where Cas knows his muscles are tight with tension.  “Please, Cas. _Please._ ”  Cas pries Dean’s hands off his belly, turning to face him and getting a wave of need and anxiety off of Dean.

 

“Are you sure about this?  Dean, if we’re separated again the withdrawal-”

 

“I don’t care,” Dean’s hands press against his face, warm and insistent.  “I- I, I’m fucking in _love_ with you, Cas. Your weird sense of humor and your bashfulness and how you’re always so worried about everyone else except yourself.  I want you to be mine as fucking bad as I want to be yours.” Everything in his scent is screaming the same thing back at Cas and it’s all Cas can do to keep breathing.

 

“You love me?”  It’s such a small, timid thing when he says it.  He’s an _alpha_ for fuck’s sake, but as Dean has proven time and again, that doesn’t mean jack shit when it comes to them, to _this_.

 

“I do, Cas.”  He’s clinging tighter to Cas now, green eyes wide and scent strong and Cas sobs on his next words but he doesn’t care.  He’s needed to say them for so long but was afraid to even think them.

 

“I love you, my omega.”  Dean surges forward and kisses him, hands that were clutching his face now giving his hair sharp tugs. Cas’ arms wrap around Dean and pull him close, until their bodies are pressed together shoulders to thighs. Cas can feel it all coming to a head now, the worry and the pain from their three weeks apart bursting out of them in hard presses of lips and sweeps of tongue.  Cas’ heart is about to burst from his chest it’s beating so hard, and every breath is an intoxicating dose of _Dean_ and _need._

 

They stumble towards the unfamiliar bedroom together, kicking off their shoes as they go.  Dean breaks the kiss long enough to navigate into the room, Cas glancing around while he has a moment.  The bed is a simple queen on a sturdy wood frame, a couple thick blankets piled on top. His body moves on its own before he tells it to, fluffing the pillows and arranging the blankets.  Amusement from Dean mixes into the haze of _want_ radiating off the both of them, but Cas is no longer embarrassed.  He guides Dean to sit on the bed, shivering when Dean leans forward to press a kiss to his belly.

 

Their scents have melded into a glorious mix of _them_ , swirling with arousal and love. Cas’ alpha isn’t fighting to drive him into a haze or clouding his mind this time, he knows with aching clarity what’s about to happen and it’s a bit terrifying but it’s what he wants.  What they both want.

 

Starting at the crown of Dean’s head, Cas drags his hands down over every part of his body, caressing and kneading, until he reaches the bottom of Dean’s shirt.  He tugs it up and off of him with slow movements, baring Dean's torso to his eyes and hands. Cas drops to his knees, bringing himself just below eye level with Dean, slipping out of his own shirt and pressing into the space between Dean’s legs.  His hands caress Dean’s thighs as they move towards his hips, leaning in to press open mouthed kisses to his chest. Dean’s scent, already heavy with need, turns sweeter, and Cas groans into Dean’s skin, his own arousal flooding the space between them.

 

“Makin’ a mess of these pants.”  Dean’s voice trembles in spite of his sass and Cas is quick to unfasten Dean’s jeans.  Dean leans back on his hands so he can lift his hips high enough for Cas to slide the jeans and his boxer briefs down and off. He tosses the damp material towards their shirts, his breath coming in thick pants as the now unmuted scent of Dean’s slick hits the air.  Dean catches his eyes, his pupils blown wide and a flush on his cheeks. “What’cha want, Cas?” A myriad of images and fantasies explode into his mind, but when he opens his mouth only one thing comes out.

 

“You.” Dean’s scent swells and he crawls away from Cas towards the center of the bed, staying on his hands and knees as he presses his chest to the mattress, canting his hips back in a blatant invitation.

 

He’s presenting.

 

_Fuck._

 

Cas rips off his clothing and crawls after him, his intentions predatory as his vision goes slightly red at the corners.

 

“Omega,” he growls deep in his throat, his hands tracing down Dean's spine and over the swell of his ass.

 

“Alpha,” Dean answers with his own growl, commanding.  Cas leans forward, not hesitating as he flattens his tongue and drags it across Dean’s entrance. The taste of slick explodes across his nerve endings, their scents and endless feedback loop of _sex_ and _mate_ and _need_. He continues to work Dean’s entrance, lapping in long swipes before pointing and plunging deep. Dean isn’t even attempting to hold anything back, hips moving and debauched noises tumbling from his throat. Sensing Dean’s need peaking before Dean even asks, he slides two fingers into place, the clench of Dean’s walls around him making his own dick twitch.  He seeks out Dean’s prostate, passing over it with every thrust of his fingers.

 

Dean’s so slick it’s running down Cas’ hand and arm but he can’t get enough of the way Dean writhes and moans, completely lost in his omega’s pleasure. For the moment he's forgotten everything else until the string of babbling from Dean coalesces into words.

 

“Alpha, _Cas_ please, need it, want it.” Dean is repeating it over and over and Cas finally pulls his hand away, yelling in surprise as Dean flips around and manhandles him up against the head of the bed. Cas’ as yet neglected cock is so hard it’s standing straight up, and Dean doesn’t hesitate to crawl into Cas’ lap and drop down on it, impaling himself with a loud groan.

 

Neither of them move at first, Dean’s hands resting on Cas’ shoulders and Cas’ hands a firm grip on his hips. Both of their chests are heaving as they pant for breath in air so thickly laced with their scents it doesn’t feel like there’s enough oxygen. Cas meets Dean’s eyes before he deliberately tilts his head to the side, baring his neck in full submission to the omega on top of him. _Possession_ floods into Dean’s scent as he leans forward, tongue tasting the entire spread of skin from Cas’ shoulder to neck until he settles on a spot just above the base of his neck.  Where no shirt collar will ever cover it. Cas whimpers his assent as Dean bares his teeth, his skin damp from saliva and sweat. There's a small burst of pain, then a weird sensation like warm liquid running through every nerve ending, starting from the bite and flowing outward until even the tips of his toes are saturated. Dean laps at his bite in a primal way, cleaning the wound and pressing his nose against the injured flesh while growling deep in his chest.

 

Cas can’t find words to give a name to what he’s feeling, but he _knows_ that he belongs to Dean now, and the thought floods every part of him with such elation he’s sure he’s going to break apart at the seams.

 

“I can feel you,” Dean breathes.  His eyes are closed, and the look on his face is indescribable. “Cas- Castiel I...I _know_ you…”  Cas is desperate to feel the same thing, to know what’s going on in Dean’s mind, and Dean smiles, his eyes opening to reveal almost black iris’ lit up in amusement.  “Okay, alpha, I know. It’s your turn.” Cas doesn’t have time to find it strange that Dean apparently read his mind before Dean is baring his neck, scent submissive and open. Cas leans forward, a little grunt of pleasure from Dean a small reminder that they’re still joined together, and presses his nose to Dean’s skin. He drags his lips and nose along Dean’s freckles, taking in the way Dean’s breath hitches when he finds a spot that smells _perfect_. It’s just above Dean’s clavicle, and Cas finds himself drawn to it like a magnet, baring his teeth and taking a deep breath before biting down hard enough to break skin.

 

The change isn’t instant, but gradually, like the warm liquid feeling that flowed into and through him, he feels almost the opposite.  It's like he’s pouring something into Dean from where his teeth have broken skin. And then he _feels...oh_ does he feel. Dean’s presence is there, somewhere in his mind, and it’s not intrusive or telepathic but he can read Dean’s emotions before his scent reflects their change. It’s like a sixth sense for what his mate is feeling, and right now his mate is bursting with the same pure joy and fulfillment he himself is filled with.

 

They don’t need words, but they start to move in unison, Cas helping guide Dean’s hips in small rolls before Dean starts to rise and fall.  Everything is so much, yet Cas doesn’t feel like he’s drowning, more that he’s able to breathe underwater. His knot is swelling, but he can feel Dean’s need for it, his permission, and so he lets go, tying them together while his hand works Dean to his own orgasm, which Cas catches the echoes of through their new bond. Dean slumps against him, head tucked into Cas’ neck, and Cas wraps his arms around him to hold him close, everything settling into a calm around them.

  


About an hour later, Cas has softened enough to fall out with a not so attractive wet noise, and Dean’s discomfort comes to the surface, along with a hunger of a more literal sense.  Dean sits up, pressing a chaste kiss against Cas’ lips. He’s happy, and Cas can _feel_ that happiness, bringing a smile to his own face.

 

“Wow, this is gonna take some getting used to,” Dean chuckles, gently brushing a hand through Castiel’s hair.  “I mean, dude, I can _feel_ how much that relaxes you, not just scent it.”

 

“It is… strange,” Cas agrees.  “Did you know it would be like this?”

 

“No,” Dean shakes his head, wonder shining in his green eyes.  “I mean, no one I talked to about mating came close to describing anything that felt like this.”

 

“Guess we’re weirder than we thought,” Cas chuckles, and Dean’s smile echoes his amusement.  “Wow, it’s like, a _feedback_ loop.”

 

“Yeah, no kidding.”  Dean presses one more kiss to his lips and climbs off of Cas, who immediately misses his warm weight in his arms.  “Dude,” Dean shakes his head. “I’m _right_ here.”

 

“Shut up,” Cas pouts, not even the least bit embarrassed by how clingy he’s being.  They both head for the bathroom, the shower stall just big enough for the two of them to squeeze into and move around. They wash each other, slowly feeling out how the flow of their emotions works enough to give the other a little breathing room. By the time they’re finished Cas has figured out how to step back and let Dean have his space, yet still feel him as a weight in the back of his mind. They both get dressed in sweatpants and Cas sets to making something else to eat, Dean picking up the phone and calling Layla.

 

“Hey, it’s Dean.  I wanted to talk about something while it was fresh in my mind.” A pause while she answers, and Dean starts speaking again, but Cas is only half listening, focusing on setting water to boil for noodles and pulling out some of the fresh vegetables. Through the flow of Dean’s emotions in the back of Cas’ mind, he knows the conversation goes well, and by the time Dean is done, he’s served up a proper dinner for the two of them, Dean sniffing appreciatively as he walks into the room.

 

“Everything good?” Cas asks anyway.  Dean grins at him.

 

“Awesome Cas.  I know how I want to do this.”  Cas nods and sits down, taking a small bite of his dinner. Dean tells him everything, and while they eat they go over contingencies and worst case scenarios.  In the end, it just might work, and Cas can tell Dean is eager to get back to Sam and fill him in.

 

“So, gonna change the world, Mr Chancellor?” Cas asks as he cleans up their dishes.  Dean’s fear he feels at those words isn’t unfounded, but it’s also not overpowering, and Cas scents his confidence.

 

“Yep, gonna change the fucking world.”

 

They spend the rest of the night basking in their new mated status, falling asleep early and rising to watch the sunrise together.  Castiel washes their clothes and the soiled bedding while Dean makes them breakfast. Breakfast they end up eating cold when Dean senses Cas’ not so subtle appreciation of his ass and drops to his knees, Cas naturally returning the favor.  Another shower to clean up that mess, and they’re finally dressed and ready to go.

 

Dean leaves the windows open for good measure.

 

They walk back into town for a quick goodbye, Dean stepping away to speak to Layla one more time while Jessica waits with Cas by their Jeep.

 

“Congratulations, by the way,” she says with a smirk.  Cas blushes but grins, running his fingers over Dean’s bite.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Decided you waited long enough?”

 

“Something like that.” Cas glances over his shoulder when Dean steps out of the building, hitching his bag up on his shoulder and embracing Layla fondly.

 

“I hope I can see you again soon,” Jessica says with a smile as Dean approaches the Jeep.  She nudges Cas as he goes to climb in, nodding at Dean as she drops her voice to a whisper.  “Does he have any brothers?”

 

“Actually, he does,” Cas grins, climbing into the Jeep and waving at a laughing Jessica as Dean starts the engine and turns them back for the gate.

 

“What’s so amusing?”

 

“Nothing, setting up Sam with a blind date is all.”

 

“Jessica?"  Dean smirks.  "Yeah, I could totally see that.”

 

Their drive away from the omega camp is just as quiet as their trip there. Dean is nervous but motivated, and in spite of all the uncertainty headed their way, Cas draws strength from the omega at his side.

 

When they arrive back at Bobby’s, Sam is outside the house pacing and his scent is an absolute mess of anger and anxiety. Dean barely throws the car in park and kills the engine before he’s jumping out of the Jeep, Sam walking up to meet him halfway.

 

“Sam, what the hell-”  Dean’s scent and his emotions through their bond ping pong from worry to dread to _anger_ , and then Sam is holding him back.

 

“Hey- hey-, _Dean_!”

 

“What the _fuck,_ Sam, let me go.”  Cas is about to ask what’s happening when he catches an unknown alpha scent on the air.  Well… it’s not completely foreign, his brain registers something familiar about it…

 

“What the _hell_ have you done, boy?” a voice booms from the house, and both of the brothers stop what they’re doing and turn towards it.  There’s too much emotion coming to Cas through Dean’s bond so he tries to shut down Dean’s flow to him and feed calm back.  He doesn’t think it’s working, judging by Dean’s scent which is anything _but_ calm.  The man is stocky, well built and tall with a hell of a beard and nothing but alpha all over him. There’s something… off about him, something that reminds Cas a little of his mother… something _broken._

 

“No, you don’t get to do this.”  Dean’s spitting his words, and Cas can tell he’s trying not to shake.  “You don’t get to waltz out here and fuck with my life when you did the same fucking thing.”

 

“Yes, well your dumb ass is lucky they never figured out where we went.”  The man walks up to within four feet of them, squaring his shoulders. Cas finds himself standing between him and Dean, his own shoulders back and hackles raising.

 

“Back off,” he hears himself growling, and Dean’s subtle appreciation of said growl isn’t lost on him.  If anything it boosts his confidence. The alpha moves to take another step forward and Cas beats him to it, enough alpha rage in the air it’s overwhelming.

 

“So, this alpha is the reason my son ran off.”

 

“This alpha’s name is Castiel,” Cas snaps.

 

“Bet he found you down in Southeast,” the man continues, his nose flaring as his eyes find Cas’ neck.  “And it seems y’all are mated, too.” Anger on his mate’s behalf swirls in with his own protectiveness, and if it wasn’t for Dean’s presence in the back of his mind he probably would have swung a punch.   _Wait… he said his son… so this is…_ The man, Dean’s father, steps forward one more time, holding out his hand.  “Name’s John Winchester.”


	12. Eleventh Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May make some small edits to this chapter after it posts.

**_***Dean***_ **

 

“What the hell is going on?!” Dean demands.  “Why the fuck are you here?” He doesn’t really know why he’s angry, but he can’t stop it from boiling over.

“You disappeared.”  John points out, turning his eyes away from an angry Cas to address Dean over his shoulder, sending Dean a jolt of anger from Cas at being ignored.  Dean’s also going to pretend he doesn’t notice how fucking  _ hot  _ Cas is, standing up to John on Dean’s behalf.

“Yeah, I noticed.  In case  _ you  _ didn’t notice, Gwen was trying to frame me for what happened to Samuel.”

“Why do you think I’m here?” John snaps. 

“Maybe to take me back like you did last time?!”  Fear is creeping into his voice, and when he hears it suddenly it’s  _ all  _ he feels, and he can’t stop himself from reaching out to touch Cas, to seek his physical presence like he might suddenly vanish.  Dean’s fear has pulled Cas’ attention off his father at least, which he figures is something. To John’s credit, he doesn’t approach any further, even taking a step back.  The alpha aggression is fading from the air even if the anger and confusion aren’t.

“Dean, I know I deserve this reaction, but I need you to trust me right now.”

“Trust you?” Sam barks out a laugh.  “Dad, why in hell should we trust you to do anything but take Dean back there?”

“I’m here alone, no one knows where I went.”  John’s got a point, and even if Dean doesn’t trust him he calms down some.

“Why  _ are  _ you here?” Dean asks, his hand still clutching tightly to Cas’ hip.  Cas has gone pure alpha at this point, Dean can tell he’s aware of what’s happening but everything he’s getting through the bond is about Dean himself, protecting him or comforting him.  There’s a tingle where they’re touching, hormones and emotions running high between them still. 

“Trying to make up for a mistake.”  John runs his hand over his beard, looking so unlike himself it catches Dean’s attention.  

“Why don’t y’all come have your family meltdown inside,” Bobby calls from the front door of his house.  Sam looks at Dean, and Dean nods. John turns first, which is probably a good thing because Dean is sure Cas wouldn’t have let him move otherwise.  As they approach, Dean pauses to catch Cas’ attention.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yes, I’m… yes.  I’m sorry I’m still…”  Dean can’t help the little smile that crosses his face because he doesn’t need to hear Cas’ words to know they’re both still having trouble adjusting.  Something tugs at Dean’s chest, like there’s a magnet behind his ribs pulling him to Cas, but he manages to keep his distance, simply holding Cas’ hand.

“Me too.”  Dean squeezes then reluctantly lets go before they walk inside to join the others in the kitchen/study.  Charlie is sitting at the table smelling absolutely petrified, so Dean squeezes her shoulder to reassure her as he passes by.  Once everyone is settled either in chairs or on a couch, Cas still practically attached to Dean where they’re sitting on the sofa, John starts talking.

“I didn’t know anything about your mother’s family.”  John is addressing Dean, his scent oddly remorseful. “I mean, I knew who her dad was of course, but I didn’t know much of anything about their history or any of their political bullshit.  I was a new hire who worked on their fleet of cars, and when she came in to go for a drive we just…well, you know.” Dean barely keeps a bitter laugh contained at John being unable to say the word love even in this context.  “I didn’t know a damn thing about what was really going on until you presented and I took you back. Then I heard the rumors, and I did some digging of my own. I thought maybe… your mother…” John trails off, and Dean nearly has to pinch his nose at the horrible bitter scent.  It carries too many memories from his childhood, his father going through losing his mom… his mate. Cas’ hand is a warm comfort on his knee.

“You thought maybe mom’s death wasn’t an accident?” Sam asks.

“For a moment.  I was wrong but… I was still grieving, even after nine years, I was thinking a lot of things.”  John glances up at Dean, his look heavy. “Trying not to think about things, too.”

“Yeah, well, this apology or whatever is a bit too little too late.”  Dean can’t help feeling bitter about all this, and he doesn’t even try to hide it from his scent.

“I don’t expect you to be happy about me being here,” John snaps back, “but I’m here to help.”  He drops a list on the desk, and Bobby picks it up. “List of everyone who’s not down with Gwen’s new restructuring.  Ready to follow either me or Sam’s instructions no matter what.” Sam pushes to his feet and goes to look over Bobby’s shoulder.

“Instructions?” Cas echoes from next to Dean, trepidation in his scent.

“To force Gwen out if she doesn’t play by the rules, which she won’t.”  Sam is nodding, and Dean can already see the gears turning in his head.

“This is good, these are good people.”

“Well, let’s not get started planning our military coup yet,” Charlie speaks up.  “We know that the general popular opinion is in Dean’s favor, they’ll listen to him as the next Chancellor without question, no matter what Gwen says to try and refute him.”

“The Hell Hounds and her guards are fiercely loyal, but there aren’t many of them.”  John’s arms are crossed, his scent focused. “Most of them are stationed in the bunker, so a little pressure on the main mansion might force her to flee.”

“I helped build the security systems in that place, I can get Charlie inside to access cameras, rosters, the works.”  Sam is mirroring his dad, and Dean’s head is spinning suddenly because everyone is fucking talking about him like he isn’t even there.  They all keep saying how  _ important  _ he is but just like the rest of his fucking life it doesn’t seem to matter how important  _ he  _ is.

“Shut up!!” Cas barks into the room.  Everyone turns to look at him, and he nods at Dean.  Who barely manages not to throw himself on Cas. “You guys gonna puppet Dean around, just like Samuel?”  He’s accusatory and there’s a hard edge to his scent, but Dean appreciates how it brings everyone’s focus back in.  

“Kid’s got a point,” Bobby huffs, admiration in his scent.  Dean puts his hand on Cas’ shoulder, squeezing before he stands up.  He’s suddenly bone tired even though it’s not that late in the day.

“Guys, I’m not gonna lie, I want to take this murderous bitch down.”  Dean sets his shoulders, almost able to feel the weight of all this physically sitting there as he shifts.  “But no collateral damage. We do this as best as we can hurting as few people as possible.” John’s disapproval is sour in his nose, but Cas’ pride helps balance it out.

“Dean… the Hell Hounds aren’t going to come peacefully,” Sam points out.  

“Then we figure out a way to keep them as far away from the people who will.  You said most of the hardcore folks were still at the Bunker, right?” Dean levels John with a glare, daring him to say something, and it’s tense in the room for a moment before John simply nods.

“Yeah.  Azazel is by her side, but the rest of his baddest mother fuckers are there.  Gives them access to the security lifeblood of the country.”

“Okay, do you know what might make them close ranks, scare them enough to get them all in one place?”

“Honestly,” John looks evenly at Dean, and something in his eyes scares him a little bit.  “Yeah, I got an idea.” 

“Care to elaborate?” Bobby asks, his scent suspicious.  John shakes his head, and Dean is almost amused by the fact that he, Sam, and Bobby all had the exact same reaction: annoyed resignation to John doing something stupid.

“Dad, we can figure this out-”

“Sam, enough.”  John’s mind is made up, if his scent is anything to go by.

“We could use you, and I can already tell you’re going to make some stupid sacrifice play—”

“Sam,” Dean interrupts, “let it go.”  John looks at him, almost like he’s seeing him for the first time, and it’s almost enough to make Dean smile.

“I’ve got an idea,” Charlie pipes up, her hand raised like she’s in class and her scent cautious.

“Let’s hear it,” Bobby sighs.

 

They talk for almost two hours, arguing through some of that time, but in the end they have a plan.  

And it could work.  

When they finish formulating their plan, Dean is exhausted, barely able to climb the stairs and wrap himself around Cas.  Cas, whose fierce protectiveness and strength on Dean’s behalf has completely driven him to distraction. He knows it’s not that Cas thinks he  _ needs _ protecting, but it still touches on some primal part of himself to have Cas fighting for him.

Wrapped around Cas as he falls asleep smiling with his nose buried in  _ his  _ alpha’s scent.

 

Dean wakes up before Cas, pleasantly warm with a  _ mess  _ in his boxers.  Lingering memories from a dream about, well,  _ things  _ makes him grin, even if he can’t do anything about it.  Something about having sex with his dad under the same roof just doesn’t sit right.

He showers quickly and thoroughly, dressing and rousing a sleepy Cas before heading downstairs for breakfast.  Slowly everyone filters in, the mood quiet and subdued. Last night’s conversation is fresh in his mind again, and last night’s tensions come back as well.  Cas pauses when he comes into the kitchen to press his nose briefly to the back of Dean’s neck, and Dean can tell he senses something is off about him, but he doesn’t say anything. 

It’s going to take a couple days for everything to line up, much to Dean’s frustration.  Sam and John are heading back to Central to coordinate with Benny and the other security forces, Charlie has a hell of a tall order where it comes to hacking, and Bobby is working on gathering supplies and keeping the Omega groups updated.  Dean had done his part last night, Charlie recorded him making a simple speech, and now all that’s left is to wait till everything is assembled.

As they all prepare to leave, Dean grows restless, feeling like he should be doing something besides eating eggs and sipping coffee.  He knows the others can scent his brooding, and he knows Cas can  _ feel  _ it, but he can’t stop this mood from digging in deeper as they begin to file out the door.  John leaves first without much of a goodbye, probably because he doesn’t know how to say it.  Sam leaves without much of a goodbye because neither brother  _ wants  _ to say it.  

By the time Bobby leaves Dean can’t deny that  _ something  _ is wrong.    

He can feel it bleeding into Cas too, and it’s rubbing them both the wrong way because they’ve only been mated for just under forty-eight hours and planning to retake a government Dean should have technically been in charge of isn’t exactly the honeymoon period that Dean was expecting.  Cas goes outside to help Bobby load up his car with some things for the Omega camp, and Dean knows he’s about to break if he can’t figure out a way to relieve his crawling skin soon. Cas comes back inside, a cautiousness in his scent. Dean can feel him building up the will to ask something, but for some reason his mate is hesitating.  The silence between them is broken by Charlie’s shower running.

“Spit it out,” Dean huffs.  “You forget I can feel you now?”  Cas blinks, taken aback by the anger in Dean’s tone and Dean immediately regrets taking this out on the one person who’s had his back this entire time.  “Cas, I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he says softly.  “I understand you’re frustrated, but there’s… well I think I might…”  He’s  _ blushing _ ?  Dean can feel his embarrassment, mixed with a weird anticipation.  “Dean, you haven’t had your heat yet.”

“I kinda noticed.”

“Well, we’re newly mated, both our hormone levels are adjusting and, you um, you’ve smelled slightly… If I had to describe it I’d say you smelled  _ magnetic,  _ though that doesn’t really make sense.”  

“Cas, what are you...”  Dean stops, flushing as he stops to think about what his mate is suggesting.  His scent has definitely thickened… and how much of a mess he was that morning.  It would explain his antsy feeling, like how he’s unable to settle into his skin.  For all the other signs, there’s something missing. “I don’t, I mean I wouldn’t say no to a little fun but I’m not… it’s not as urgent?”  Cas steps into his space, wrapping an arm around his middle and tucking him close, and suddenly Dean realizes how little they’ve touched outside of when they went to sleep last night.  Now that Cas is touching him, everything falls into place.

“Fuck, Cas,” he sighs into his hair as his body temperature skyrockets.

“That’s what I thought,” Cas hums.  “I’d been trying to give you some space while your father was here but,” Cas swallows hard, hand gripping Dean’s back tightly, “I think I knew this was coming.”

“You know, it might be considered cruel to avoid me when you knew I was going into heat,” Dean huffs.  His scent is shifting into the familiar sweet and warm scent of his heat, finally breaking through everything else that’s been weighing on him.

“I wanted to spare your family the trauma of watching me claim you,” Cas purrs, and yeah, Dean knows he’s in heat now as he feels himself get wet because Cas said  _ claim  _ and his body thinks that’s a hell of a good idea.  The sudden burst of Cas’ arousal into the air around them isn’t helping either.

“Cas...” 

“I took the liberty of asking Bobby where… well, if there was someplace a little less intrusive for us.”  Dean flushes from both embarrassment that Bobby knows he’s in heat, and Cas’ lips tickling his neck. “He’s recently come into possession of a camper an Omega didn’t need anymore.  It’s sufficient for what we need.” Dean has no idea how Cas is so goddamn put together right now, speaking about this clinically while Dean is starting to tremble in his arms.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, Cas.  Please, can we...?” Dean whines.  Cas pulls away, the places where he’d been touching Dean aching with how much he wants it back.  

“Go grab what we’ll need out of the bedroom.”  Cas suggests it but it might as well be a demand with how fast Dean is gone and upstairs.  He grabs his pillows and the blankets, as well as all their clean underwear and some spare sweatpants.  He doesn’t bother with any other jeans than what he’s wearing, or any shirts. They won’t need them. For good measure he stops at the hall closet and grabs a handful of washcloths and a couple towels, bundling everything up in his arms as best as he can.  When he stumbles back downstairs Cas is holding a reusable grocery bag with some water, apples, and a couple boxes of protein bars. “Let’s go before Charlie figures out I raided her stash,” Cas huffs.

Dean follows as Cas leads them out behind Bobby’s house into the yard of junk cars that he uses as his source of income.  The camper stands out in that it’s fairly new, compared to everything else. There’s a hose spigot nearby, and it’s close enough to the house they’ll be able to run inside to use the bathroom when needed.  

“Convenient that he has this,” Dean smirks.  Cas hums thoughtfully.

“I’m thinking it might not be coincidence as much as Bobby is good at thinking ahead.”

“What?”  Dean blinks at Cas’ back as he follows his mate into the camper.

“Wow, this is really clean, good,” Cas nods, pointedly not looking at Dean as he heads to where the bed is at the back of the camper, a queen sized thing that takes up the whole compartment.

“Cas, what did you mean about Bobby?” Dean asks again.

“When Charlie got in contact with him about us coming for you, the first thing he said was  _ gonna need more space. _ ”  Cas turns and smiles sheepishly at Dean.  “Either he literally meant more beds or he figured out what me coming meant.”  Dean can’t help but laugh, the fondness in his scent echoed in his mate’s.

“He’s too smart for his own good.”  Dean drops the blankets and pillows on the bed, turning to set the towels down on the small table.  What he finds there turns his entire torso crimson and Cas is suddenly at his side to see what made him and his scent flush with mortification.

“He even left a box of condoms,” Cas laughs, his humor turning to heat as he reaches around Dean from behind to take the box from him.  “Well, we better get to work using these up,” he growls in Dean’s ear. Dean shivers, turning in Cas’ arms to wrap his arms around his neck. 

“What happened to the nervous little alpha who was afraid of hurting me?” he asks breathily.  Cas leans in to press a slow kiss against Dean’s mating mark, waves of love and want flowing through both their bond and their scents.

“That was before you had this.”  Cas nips at it gently, and Dean shakes at the sensation.  “Being mated to you, it’s… I feel normal, for the first time ever.”  Cas’ words are vulnerable, but Dean  _ understands _ .  He knows what it’s like to feel like you’re never going to fit and he can’t wait any longer.  He needs Cas and he needs him right  _ NOW. _

He shoves Cas towards the bed, stripping out of his clothes as Cas does the same, the two of the falling naked together onto the mattress, lips and teeth attacking in a kiss that’s almost too messy to be considered a kiss.  Dean is covered in slick, and their bond and scent is singing with  _ want  _ and  _ need  _ and  _ mate  _ and Dean’s body is screaming for Cas.  Cas, thankfully, can sense Dean’s urgency, and after a little maneuvering, he slides a condom on and then slips inside him without hesitation.

It’s everything, Cas is everything.

Dean’s crying, but so is Cas, love and devotion flowing between them in words and through their bond, everything Dean is being given to Cas and Cas giving himself back tenfold.  It’s passion, it’s pain, it’s literally so much that when Dean comes he swears he leaves his body and actually slips into Cas’. Cas’ knot catches and in the moment Dean is disappointed that the condom is there, his primal self wanting to feel Cas filling him, claiming him from the inside.  Cas makes small soothing noises, nuzzling against Dean’s bite as he adjusts their position to keep them comfortable.

Dean then promptly passes the fuck out.

 

After the initial emotions are out of the way, Cas makes it his life mission to make Dean come as many times as possible, in as many ways as possible, every time a wave hits.  They take small breaks for sustenance and showers, but Dean spends the better part of four days screaming Cas’ name. He figures there are worse ways to spend the time.

He’s never felt more  _ rested  _ after a heat before, but when he wakes up on the fifth day free of heat scent, he’s never felt more alive.  Cas is passed out on his stomach, one leg tucked up slightly so his bare ass is on display, and Dean can’t help but run his hand over it fondly.  Cas grumbles, rolling over to face Dean with an adorably grumpy morning face. Which Dean of course can’t resist kissing, morning breath be damned.

“So it’s finished then?” Cas asks.  The mood between them turns serious quickly, the both of them knowing what reality waits for them outside the camper.  

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Dean breathes.  Cas reaches out to run a hand over his cheek, and Dean can feel him trying to feed confidence through their bond.

“I’m right here.  Whatever you need.”  Dean nods, and after a few more minutes of self indulgent cuddles, they both get out of bed, cleaning the camper as best as they can and heading back to the main house.  Bobby and Charlie don’t say anything as the two of them come inside the house, but Dean can tell from their scents that something has happened. He and Cas quickly put the sheets into the laundry machine, taking turns showering and dressing.  When they come back downstairs, Bobby and Charlie are both waiting in the kitchen with go bags packed. 

“Ready to go save the world from your bitch of an aunt?” Charlie asks.  “Start us a revolution?” Bobby rolls his eyes at Charlie’s smile and optimistic scent, and Dean can’t help but smile fondly.  This is his family, and if protecting their future means protecting the whole country, then that’s what he was prepared to do.

“Let’s kick it in the ass.”


	13. Before and After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May make minor edits to this chapter after it posts.

**_***Dean***_ **

 

The trip to Central iwas quick and quiet, everyone wrapped in their own thoughts about what’s coming.  They arrive shortly after dawn, the early morning light soft and the temperature slightly cooler than what Dean expected.  Dean and Cas had both gone on blockers, their scents too strong, and in Dean’s case too recognizable, to risk not using them.  Dean hates losing his access to Cas’ scent, but at least they still have their bond, and Dean is relying on it quite a bit. Cas is just as nervous, but knowing that Cas is there is a comfort on its own, a presence in his mind he can share in this with.

Charlie directs them to a set of coordinates she had received from Sam, and they pull up to an abandoned building, the words  _ Store Closing Blowout  _ just visible on the old signs in the storefront windows.  Sam is waiting for them out front, looking determined but pleased to see them.  When they pull up a handful of others walk out of the building, and Dean recognizes most of his old security force.  Benny walks out last, and beams at Dean when he sees him.

John isn’t anywhere to be found.

“Benny, am I glad you’re here,” Dean sighs, walking up and embracing his friend.

“`Course I am.  Sam here made sure of it.”  

“How’s Andrea?” Dean asks.  

“Safe.  How’s your mate?”  Benny smirks as Dean’s ears burn red.

“How’d you even?”

“Maybe because he’s wearing a huge ass bite mark and looks a little perturbed at being ignored?”  Dean turns to see Cas is indeed looking a little annoyed, but it seems Dean’s embarrassment is payment enough.

“I’m Castiel,” he says, stepping forward and extending his hand.

“Benny.”

“Dean has spoken highly of you.”  Dean flashes back to a conversation they had during Cas’ rut, about his friends back home.  He also tries  _ not  _ to think about how he was sitting on Cas’ knot at the time but the smugness coming through their bond is enough for Dean to know it was on purpose.

“Well I look forward to hearing more about yourself in the coming days.”  Benny shakes Cas’ hand firmly and Dean rolls his eyes.

“Alright, you can gossip later,” Sam interrupts, amusement in his scent that makes Dean blush.  “We’ve got a plan to execute.” As if she was waiting for that cue, Charlie unpacks her laptop and sets it up on a table, Cas finds her an old wooden crate to sit on as she works.  Dean finds himself pulled aside by Sam, stepping away from the main group as Bobby chats with Benny and the others.

“Dean, listen,” Sam whispers.  “We don’t know what we’re going to be walking into, in either the manse or the bunker.”

“I get that, Sam,” Dean’s worry catches Cas’ attention from where he’s standing by Charlie and he looks over at Dean.  

“So you’re going to have to stay here.”

“Wait what?!”  Dean’s voice carries a bit too much and the entire room goes quiet.  Cas is immediately at his side, an arm on his shoulder as he tries to calm him through the bond.

“Dean, you’re too important to risk anything happening to you,“

“And you’re not?!”  Dean is being left behind, like some fragile thing that needs to be protected.

“Dean,” Cas says quietly, drawing his attention from Sam with how guilty he’s feeling in the bond.

“Fuck, Cas, don’t tell me you  _ agree  _ with him.”  Cas’ guilt deepens.  “And you’re going? So you’re both leaving me here like some damsel waiting to be rescued?!”

“No, Dean, we need someone here to not only take care of Charlie, but to continue to rally people if things go sideways...“

“You mean if one of you dies.”  Dean can feel his heart clench at the thought, and Cas tugs him close, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck as Dean’s bite swims into his vision.  Fuck is he really about to cry?! 

“Dean.  I will come back to you.”  Cas’ voice is strong and absolute.  Dean drops his head, still not happy about this, but he trusts his alpha.  

“I hate this,” he whispers.  Cas looks to Sam, who nods and steps away to talk to the others while Cas leads Dean down a side hallway for more privacy.

“I know you do, love.”  Cas tucks himself into Dean’s neck, tugging his shirt down gently to let his lips brush his bite.  “I hate it too, but if you’re with me I won’t be able to function.”

“Cas, I’m not helpless,” Dean bites out petulantly.

“Oh, I know.”  Dean’s about to argue some more when Cas starts to  _ feed  _ him feelings through their bond.  Dean’s shocked to feel how close to the surface Cas’ alpha instincts are at even thinking about Dean being there.  “Something’s different,” Cas breathes into his skin. “Since your heat I’ve been… barely hanging onto myself.”

“Cas, why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I can’t put it into words.”  His hands slide low on Dean’s belly, caressing him softly before wrapping around him to tug him close, teeth scraping his skin.  “But even thinking about it has me on edge.” 

“Okay, Cas, it’s okay.”  Dean wraps an arm around his shoulder, amazed at how small Cas feels in his arms right now when he’s usually such a large presence, at least to Dean.  “Just come back to me.”

“I will.”  Cas presses a short, fierce kiss to his lips that leaves Dean tingling before turning away forcefully and walking back to the others.  Dean takes a minute to collect himself, letting the group coordinate where he doesn’t have to hear it and get worried. When he walks back out everyone is ready to leave, the stun gun looking foreign on Cas’ hip.  Sam’s stun gun is mirrored on his other hip with a real gun, but the look on his brother’s face will brook no argument.

“Okay, I’ll contact you when we’re in position, then fire away,” Sam nods at Charlie.  She nods back, looking determined, and Cas and her embrace tightly.

“You owe me,” she grumbles.

“Big time,” Cas agrees.  Dean meets Cas’ eyes and they say all they need to through their bond.  The group turns away and Dean hears the engines of a couple cars start up and drive away.

“You ready for this?” Charlie asks.

“As I’ll ever be,” Dean sighs.

When Sam signals they’re in position, Charlie takes a deep breath and presses a button on her laptop.  Dean watches as his face fills the screen, knowing that at that moment it is filling every screen in the entire country.

Talk about nerve wracking.  At least he doesn’t have any zits.

_ “Some of you know me; for those who don’t, my name is Dean Winchester.  My grandfather, Samuel Campbell, was attacked, and you may have been told it was me and the democratic protesters.  This is a lie. _

_ My aunt, Gwen Campbell, in a misguided and power hungry attempt to place herself in power, was both behind the attack and also orchestrated the attempt to frame me.  She’s employed an old dirty secret of the chancellorship, a group of mercenaries for hire, to do her dirty work for years.  _

_ Such as killing her brother, Christian. _

_ I was going to take over this Chancellorship when it was my time.  I wanted to hear your voices, to listen to what you wanted of me. She took it from me with no intention to do anything but grab power and do what she wanted for her.  She has no intention of giving you, the people she wants to rule, any say. She will continue to use her vicious attack dogs to keep things going her way, driving this country into a dark place we won’t come back from without bloodshed. _

_ But her hold on you is not absolute, not yet. _

_ Right now, we have the power to stop this from happening, peacefully and quickly.  No one else should have to die, no one else should get hurt just so their voices are heard. _

_ If you want to help, if you’re truly dedicated to being heard, to bringing Gwen and her crimes to justice, if you want to bring a marginalized people out of the shadows, send a text to the number on your screen.  You’ll be given a location to meet someone I know and trust.  _

_ Help me, so that I can help you. _

Hearing the speech, even though he remembers giving it, is a whole new level of scary and Dean wonders if he really thought this through.

“Pure chills,” Charlie whispers.  

“That’s just the nausea,” Dean mumbles.  She ignores him, pulling up the country’s newsfeeds and together they watch the country’s reaction.

There’s confusion at first, people not sure what to believe, but slowly the pro-democracy voice seems to win out, and there’s an overwhelming amount of people flooding Charlie’s messaging service.  They’re gathering and helping subdue Gwen’s few loyal officials, most of her supporters turning on her with the information they’d heard about Christian.

For six hours, they watch this unfold, Dean unable to look away as his world changes right before his eyes, all because of his words.

The story breaks about the omegas in the seventh hour, as they start to reveal themselves to the public.  The confusion and fallout from that Dean knows will last a lot longer than one night, but so far people seem to be taking the news well.

He’s not naive, he knows he has a ton of work ahead of him before he even thinks about living a quiet life, but he never imagined he’d have such a positive outcome to this.

As expected, Gwen fled to the bunker as soon as the news story broke, but their information on what’s happening there is woefully lacking.  Since the base was a secret known only to the Chancellorship, there’s no news crews looking that way, no one with cameras even thinking about wandering the woods in Lebanon.  

After fourteen hours Dean and Charlie have stopped getting updates from Sam and Benny.  He knows Cas is alive because he’s a distant feeling in the back of his mind, but Dean’s stomach is still churning with anxiety.  What might have happened with communications? Were Gwen’s forces more prepared than originally thought? What if...

No.  Some things shouldn’t even be thought of.

The sun comes up the next day, and it’s all Charlie can do to keep up with her network of helpers.  People have started to show up, helping her set up a command center, and the bustling activity sets Dean on edge.  Dean feels absolutely useless, so he escapes down one of the hallways to a back room where he can be alone. It’s been almost 24 hours and he’s hardly slept or eaten anything, his stomach too busy tying itself in knots to let him calm down.

A familiar scent makes him turn to the door just in time to see Layla walk in, not breaking stride till she stands next to him at the window.

“You’ve done it,” she says simply.

“I gave a fucking speech.”  Dean shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“You don’t see how much you inspire those around you,” Layla says gently.  It’s quiet for a moment, Dean’s eyes unfocused on the world outside the window, his mind focused on the small presence of his alpha.  “They still haven’t been in contact?”

“No,” Dean jerks his head to the side in a small shake.  

“It’s okay to worry.”  She reaches out, sliding her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder.  He immediately relaxes, taking in the platonic comfort she’s offering him gratefully.  

“How can I lead a country if I can’t even keep myself together?”

“One day at a time.”  Dean feels himself settle for the first time since Cas left his side, no less worried, but at least less physically ill.

Two hours later Sam and Cas finally return.  Dean wants to leap into his mate’s arms and never leave again, but then he sees and scents Sam.  Sam is giving Charlie an update with a weird tight voice, about Bobby and Benny staying behind to secure things.  When Dean meets Cas’ eyes, Cas closes off their bond as much as he can, enough for Dean to know he’s hiding something.

“John’s gonna need some help for his leg, he’s with Bobby though-“

“What happened?” Dean barks into the room, ignoring the comment about their father in favor of what’s wrong with his brother.  Everyone falls silent but Sam doesn’t raise his eyes. “Sam?”

“I had no choice,” Sam says slowly.  There’s something broken in Sam, something in his scent that’s sharpened into a blade, cutting through everything Dean’s ever known about him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Dean-“

“Answer me!!”  People are filing out of the room now, scents scared and worried, leaving just Dean, his brother, and his mate.

“Azazel wasn’t coming quietly.  Dad was there and he got shot and I… I had a chance, so I took it.”  Sam still can’t meet Dean’s eyes, and the pain coming from Cas even through their closed bond is too much for Dean.  

“Sammy...“

“I didn’t have a choice, Dean.”  Sam repeats it, like if he says it enough it’ll make it true. 

Sam’s killed someone.  There’s no coming back for that.

Dean steps up and wraps his brother in a hug, and in spite of his height Sam feels so small, shrinking into Dean as he trembles.  Cas moves forward, reaching his hands out to rest on both brother’s shoulders, offering as much support as he can.

“It’s okay, Sammy.  It’s okay.” Dean’s suddenly eight years old again, holding his little brother when he’d skinned his knee.  But he doesn’t know how he’s going to be okay this time. He doesn’t know how to fix this.

“We’ll all need some time,” Cas says gently.  Dean feeds gratitude through their bond, and takes a deep breath, releasing Sam with a pat on his back.  Dean looks between the two of them, and it finally hits. They did it. They’ve changed the world. And he knows that he’s gonna have to deal with the repercussions for a long time, but for now, he’s got his brother and his mate and everything just might be okay.

 

**_One Week Later_ **

**_***Cas***_ **

 

Cas is more than a little petrified, staring down the door of the Chancellor’s manse.  His things have already been moved in, it’s just a matter of him physically setting his foot inside the door, and it’ll officially be the first time he goes inside as a resident.

“You seriously gonna chicken out now?” Gabe chuckles, patting Cas on the back.  “You fought a revolution to get here.” Cas glares at his cousin.

“This is more than just Dean’s position,” Cas points out.  “This is moving in together, this is… this is as much about us as it is about his work.”

“Jeez Cas, lighten up,” Gabe laughs.  

“Leave him be,” Michael sighs, guiding Gabriel inside the door with a smile at Cas.  Shaking his head, Cas follows them inside, looking around at what’s going to be his new home.  It feels weird, slightly impersonal and lofty, but just in the week Dean’s been in charge he’s made subtle changes to the place.  Some of the opulence has been removed and auctioned off, and overall it’s more of a house than it used to be.

“So?  How does it feel?” Gabe asks.

“I’m gonna miss the chickens,” Cas sighs.  Gabe and Michael laugh, and a pair of arms come up behind him and wrap around his waist. 

“We can get chickens, if it’ll help.”  Dean’s warmth floods their bond, and Cas smiles, resting his hand on Dean’s.  

“I thought we were here for dinner, not dinner and a show,” Gabe scoffs.

“You know where the dining room is.  Sam and Jess are setting the table.” Gabe and Michael move off, leaving the two of them alone for a moment.  The house is quiet right now for their family dinner, a bit of privacy after a long week of cameras and so many eyes on them.

“I like this,” Cas hums softly.

“Mm, me too.  We should make this a thing.”

“Weekly family dinners?  You a glutton for punishment?”

“True… maybe just the two of us then?”  Dean nuzzles into his hair, and Cas grins, turning and grabbing his lips in a quick kiss.

“Sounds perfect.”  They separate to join the others in the dining room, and Cas looks around at the group of people he’s now inherited as his family.  Charlie is busy chatting away with the blonde omega Jess, Sam looking on fondly. Cas wasn’t surprised when she took a shining to Sam, and she’s been so good for him even in the short time they’ve known each other.  Cas knows Sam has a long road ahead, dealing with what happened at the bunker, but knowing he has Jess gives him hope.

John is getting around with a cane, Azazel’s leg shot refusing to keep the man down long.  Cas knows Dean hasn’t forgiven his father, but there’s at least the beginnings of a bridge between them, and that’s better than nothing.  With Gabriel and Michael sitting at the table, everyone he loves is in one room, a warm glow from a mate he never thought he’d have in the back of his mind and a fullness in his heart.

Cas finally doesn’t feel...alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THATS THE END!! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING!! I love all of you so much. :) 
> 
> Please consider my fics “Death of a Bachelor” and “Fix Me, I’m Broken” for your future reading needs ❤️❤️❤️


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